


Knockout Love

by darcyreads



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sibling Banter, Ultimate Fighting Championship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcyreads/pseuds/darcyreads
Summary: Gaara, an insomniac falling apart at the seams. Lee, a professional fighter, down on his luck. The two meet under unusual circumstances. Is it possible to fall in love with someone with only their voice?
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee
Comments: 58
Kudos: 136





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks! hope you enjoy this little guilty pleasure AU of mine. its no masterpiece, but hopefully some of you will get a kick out of it.
> 
> warnings; I don't actually know anything about UFC, there will be some violence, mentions of past trauma, if there's anything specific you're worried about feel free to DM me
> 
> constructive criticism is warmly welcomed!
> 
> I've made a playlist for this fic: [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5MrFdeBIXSax125FUy2gxL?si=voeu1RgdTeKzrqfVdi2AXg&nd=1), if any of you are interested! 
> 
> and lastly, a huge thank you to a_gay_poster, if this fic is at all decent, you can thank them for that, and to umauzumaki as well.

Sleep eluded Gaara tonight. It eluded him _every_ night. The dawn was as familiar to him as noon was for those that kept a regular sleep cycle. 

Strange patterns floated in the corners of his eyes. As a kid, he used to think they were demons; now he knew they were only effects of a brain that functioned with next to no sleep. It wasn’t that he couldn’t sleep, but he approached the activity the same way one would a dog that had ripped their face-off. Gaara thought if he died early from his body failing to keep him alive, it would be like he lived just as long, saving the hours he spent not sleeping. That’s how he rationed his half-life, not dead, but not awake. Sometimes Gaara felt every much a spectre as the creatures that floated in the periphery of his vision. 

He caught his reflection in the black screen of his phone; the light of the day barely touched him. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, with dark purple bags that ran deep, and hair that stuck up at every angle. He looked like the mess that he really was. He was both grateful and guilty that his siblings even put up with him. He wanted to beg for forgiveness and hide. He wanted to hug them and push them away. It didn’t really matter what he wanted though; he had the energy for neither. 

He had enough energy to move himself around the house like an awkward piece of furniture. His current stakeout was on the couch. But sometimes it was in the lounge, his bedroom, the office. Trying to keep his useless form out of the way. 

He had tried enrolling in college, he dropped out. He had tried art classes, he got kicked out (Temari still brings that one up, to her pleasure). He had tried photography and programming and birdwatching, but it didn’t matter when you go around like something from _28 Days Later_ , it's hard to care about anything. 

His phone buzzed and up popped a message from his friend Sai. A little bubble of a face that wore an insincere smile. A friend he had made in his short weeks at art school who had moved back to Japan. He was a convenient friend since it would be a reasonable time for him, and not many people were awake at four thirty AM. He was a good friend too, other than periodically asking if Gaara would model for him—nude. 

_Thought of you my favourite little insomniac xx_

Attached was a Spotify link: “Come train with me!!”. The description read “Come meditate with Rock Lee! Help yourself get into the zone so you can feel refreshed and youthful!” 

_what is this?_ Gaara texted back, not clicking the link.

 _a sleepy time podcast ^^,_ he replied. _Ah, one of those,_ Gaara thought. People loved to suggest things for him to help him sleep. People didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t that sleep was hard to come by, it’s that he didn’t want to. But that didn’t stop Temari from buying all sorts of teas, or Kankuro pawning a colourful mixture of sleeping pills. 

_thanks,_ he replied regardless. 

_any time ;)_

A huge sigh escaped from him and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding. _Maybe it’ll be soothing_ , Gaara thought, grabbing his headphones off the coffee table. _Maybe I’ll even get a laugh_. He rearranged the pillows and popped two ibuprofen. He had the view of the berry-coloured sky starting to turn golden. Sunsets were a poor man's dawn. 

Gaara opened the link and pressed play. Beach noises faded in through his headphones, and Gaara’s expectations started to drop quickly. After a moment a soft voice spoke: “Hello everyone. My name is Rock Lee, and this is a podcast for meditation, to help you find your centre and escape from the every day, uhm, and hopefully I can find some relaxation too.” 

There was silence for a second before it picked back up: “To begin my routine, I start with a deep breath, in and out.” 

The voice was gentle like many other podcasts he had listened to, soothing. The quality was warm and polite. That was all Gaara could process before he blinked, once, twice, and the third time, his eyelids did not re-open. 

Gaara woke up. Normally. As in, not screaming bloody murder, or sleepwalking into the desert. He slept without nightmares, without terrors, as if he hadn’t a worry in the world. He simply slept peacefully for the first time in his consciousness. His eyes widened further as he sat up, feeling a touch disoriented. He felt something he couldn’t recall ever feeling before, was it… _rested_? He shifted his tongue around his dry mouth. 

“What the fuck?” 

His head whipped in the direction of the whisper. His siblings sat around the couch, staring at him in awe. Both expressions mirrored with open jaws. Gaara looked down to see an old quilt that covered him. 

“I…” Gaara tried to speak. 

“You…” Temari started. Temari was the most rational of the three. She inherited the brain, the brawn and the looks. Leaving Kankuro and Gaara only the scraps and leftovers. Being the eldest, and the wisest, she managed to push the words out. “You slept…and woke up fine?” She shook her head like she could scarcely believe it herself. 

“How the hell did you manage it, cowlick?” Kankuro butted in. If Temari was the best of the siblings, Kankuro was the worst. He was the crudest, the loudest and largest. It was a tie between him and Gaara when it came to who caused more trouble. They were the see-saw that worked to constantly unbalance Temari. It was largely unsuccessful. Kankuro reached up to toy with a new lip piercing of his before his hand was slapped away by Temari. 

“How do you feel?” she asked. Gaara of course. Not Kankuro.

 _How do I feel?_ Normal. Was this what normal felt like? The chaos in his brain eased up. There was sand in his eyes and a slight hunger in his stomach. His heart didn’t feel like it struggled to beat. He had pet the face-ripping dog last night, and instead of coming away with a hole for a face, he found it _soft_.

“I feel refreshed.” Gaara pulled a face. _Refreshed… and youthful?_

“Whatever it is, I’m just glad I don’t have to wake to sounds of someone being murdered,” Kankuro said, earning an elbow to ribs from Temari. “Hey!” 

“We’re just… so glad… Was it the new eucalyptus tea?” she asked, her brown eyes shimmering with hope. 

Gaara felt his cheeks warm. Blood rushed through his body faster than ever. Previously it moved sluggishly through his body like molasses, leaving him pale and sickly. Now it betrayed his embarrassment. As tempting as it was to tell Temari it had been her tea, he’d rather fess up than fake drinking any of the nasty collection of leaves she brought home. He looked into the eyes of his siblings, their mouths still slightly agape and eyebrows raised. Gaara was starting to feel like he had just woken from a coma instead of sleep. 

“Well… Sai recommended this podcast…” he mumbled. It struck him how gravelly his voice was, compared to the smooth voice that knocked him out last… morning? He looked out the window to see the sun setting. Almost a full twelve hours of sleep. The golden-red light washed over him and his siblings. The sun lit up Temari’s hair and cast shadows on his brother's face. He bet if he had drawn this scene he wouldn’t have gotten kicked out of art school. 

“Oh! Like those ‘Come sleep with me’ podcasts! You know, I really like that Sai guy.” 

“Sorta…” Gaara replied. Maybe drinking tea would have been easier after all. 

Temari changed the subject to Gaara’s relief. “Well, it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re looking better than I’ve probably ever seen you.” 

“Do you think there’s naughty stuff after you fell asleep? It was from Sai after all. I don’t want my sweet innocent baby brother to be corrup-” 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Gaara ground out, whipping the blanket off and throwing it on top of Kankuro. 

“Ou, feisty aren’t we?” was Kankuro’s muffled reply. Temari pushed him over. 

Gaara flipped him off before stalking off to the kitchen. He heard hushed whispers but didn’t care enough to eavesdrop. 

If Temari was perfect, and Kankuro was big, Gaara was there. On the edge of existing. What was he, if he was more than just… present? But awake. Processing way more than he ever did, his thoughts came quick and fast. Almost too fast. He’d go back and get his ibuprofen if his siblings weren’t currently occupying the living room. The kitchen it was then. 

Food was something he’d consumed before like a machine did to oil, but now, he was considering the options. He couldn’t even remember what he’d grabbed before. There was yogurt he swore was never there, energy drinks with a brand he’d never heard of, and tupperware with dates on them. He pulled out one of the containers, but even microwaving was an issue. How long did he even microwave food for? Two minutes? Lid on or off? Everything that used to be so automatic now he needed thought. 

Gaara never felt so clear despite that though, his thoughts actually forming complete ideas in his mind. 

He grabbed his meal (nuked twice, still cold in the centre), and sat down to think. His mind immediately went to the voice. To Rock Lee and his magical voice. He tried to imagine exactly what it sounded like, but he couldn’t quite remember. That bugged him. 

Gaara opened Spotify to: “Come Train with Me!”. There were ten episodes, each about 55 minutes long. He wished he could recall more, but he fell asleep almost immediately, and as tempting as it was to listen, he wanted to see if he could re-create the results tonight. If it was more than just a one-time thing. If maybe, he could be somewhat normal. Gaara wasn’t particularly optimistic. 

He dug into his food, actually tasting it. It was rice and curry but tasted more like wet cardboard. 

A voice swept through the large manor, making Gaara jump in his seat: “I’m going shopping, Kankuro!... And Gaara.” she tacked on. 

“Wait,” Gaara said, the words coming out. He threw the meal in the garbage, and he padded in his socks to the front entrance. “Can I come with you?”

Gaara thought he grew a second head the way Temari was gawking at him.

”Are you sure?” She asked. 

Gaara merely looked at her. 

“Of course,” she said to his silence. 

A thought occurred to Gaara, and it bubbled to lips before he could stop it. “Don’t you have work?”

“It’s Saturday… and it’s like, six-thirty.” 

“Oh.” _Oh._ “I’m just going to get dressed… you don’t mind waiting do you?” 

“No, not at all.” A small smile hung on her face, as delicate as a moth's wing. As if anything too extreme might change Gaara’s mind. 

There was definitely a difference in how he and Temari looked. She was polished in a camel coloured pea coat (Burberry™) that made her brown skin sing and shiny black boots, and him in sweatpants (non-stained™) and a pair of old Nikes. He threw on Kankuro’s oversized puffer jacket, despite it not being that cold outside. He found crumpled up concert tickets in the pockets.

If Gaara thought that getting dressed was a challenge, he was about to face a whole world of choice at the grocery store, but Temari was patient, letting him stare at labels, pick the best looking avocado, and decide between 1% and 2% sour cream. One aisle he didn’t hesitate in was in the spices and preserves, where he slid thirteen different seasonings and seven bottles of hot sauce into their quickly filling cart. 

“Kankuro doesn’t like spice.” 

“Well... I do… I think.” 

Gaara couldn’t even really remember the last time he left the house, let alone what food he liked, but he was sure he’d like it more than whatever was in that tupperware. 

When they parked back at their manor it was dark out. Temari looked at him. The car light faded and her expression was hard to read. Gaara shifted in his seat, ready to leave the atmosphere of the car, when Temari put her hand on his shoulder, even her nails were immaculate. 

“Gaara, I’m glad you’re feeling better, and I don’t even care if this was a one-time thing. It was nice.” Temari’s perfume was in the air, and it was comforting and familiar. It smelt like home.

An undetectable wave crashed into Gaara, more overwhelming than anything he had experienced this day so far. Even harder than convincing Temari that they should pick up pineapple (they did). 

Gaara moved to clear his throat, and then put his hand briefly on Temari’s before leaving the car. Unready to deal with those emotions. An absolute mess in the face of perfection. 

Perhaps that was his role, a disaster, but then he remembered his brother existed. He loaded up most of the groceries and took them in. He wanted to put them away before he realized he doesn’t even know where anything goes. 

“Don’t worry I got this,” Temari said behind him. 

Gaara nodded gratefully and retreated to his bedroom. It was messier than he remembered. Everything was covered in clothes, some piles with dust on top of that. And there were cups, so many goddamn cups, littered on every surface like a dragon with the strangest treasure to safeguard. 

He shook his head and darted into Temari's room to steal an elastic to tie back his hair. Then he put on his headphones and got to work. Trying not to think about podcasts, or soft soothing voices, or the man behind it.

After making giant piles of keep, clean and donate; the latter of which was taller than the rest. He loaded the dishwasher up with glasses, trying to avoid being seen. No one needed to know about the collection he was hoarding. 

His room looked normal now, almost as normal as he felt. He picked up a dusty book he didn’t remember buying or receiving, and read it. Actually absorbed the words. The last time he’d tried to read his eyes just skimmed the page over and over, picking up nothing. 

After a few hours, he decided it was time to thank Sai. 

_it worked._

_NO WAY!_ Sai replied. The phone was silent for a few minutes before he texted once more: _So… will you pose naked for me now? ;)_

Gaara rolled his eyes and took a photo of his elbow crack. 

_here you go_

_u suxx :((_ Sai texted. Gaara sent him a peach emoji in return. 

_thanks sai,_ he wrote back, closing the messaging app, and re-opened Spotify. Gaara could begin to feel the very familiar effects of tiredness on him—heavy eyes, scattered thoughts—and yet it was so mild compared to what he usually felt. Gaara’s stomach began to tie itself in knots. He wasn't sure which was worse, the thought of trying to sleep and having nightmares, or the thought of the voice losing its sleep-inducing quality. There was also a curiosity that tugged at him. He wanted to hear Rock Lee again. Wanted to hear those soft, gentle tones, spoken in the most non-intrusive way, as if the speaker didn't want to be heard. After flipping between apps, his desire to hear the man’s voice won out. 

Gaara swiped a notebook and a pen from his bedside table. He wanted to jot down as many traits as possible, perhaps he could figure out what gave the voice it’s effect. It didn’t occur to him that he should shut off the lights, or go under the covers, or perhaps get more comfortable. The routine of sleep wasn’t something that he was programmed to have. He wiped his clammy hand on his bedsheet, his heart increasing in pace. His thumb hovered over the play button on his phone. 

Gaara pressed play. 

Through his headphones, he heard waves hitting a sandy beach with distant gulls in the background. Gaara breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Within a few seconds, the warm voice started to speak, and Gaara broke out in a chill, his hair standing on end, his heart beating fast for a different reason entirely. 

“Hello everyone, thank you so much for joining me again, I’m Rock Lee.” Gaara carefully put a knuckle to lips; the pen lay forgotten. “Today, let us try and escape the pressures of everyday life with some meditation. Take a deep breath, nice and slow, feel your lungs gently expand.” Against his will, he found himself following the instructions, his eyes closing involuntary. “Now exhale, letting go of the tension, release those shoulders and unclench your jaw.” A smooth and soothing feeling filled Gaara, and he focused on the voice, trying to absorb everything he could, trying to pin the voice to his memory. “Now once more, take your time, breath in... “ 

Gaara wished he could have heard the rest, but sleep took him away. The phone slipped onto the bed. His face became slack and serene.

The next few days passed in a similar fashion, as Gaara began to get his sleep schedule more in line. The novelty of sleep was still not lost on him. While he never got quite the same twelve-hour sleep of the first night, he got a solid six, his bedtime now a more appropriate two-thirty AM. He slept dreamlessly, deep, and woke up… _refreshed_. He never got to write notes about the man’s voice, never failing to fall asleep within a handful of minutes. He decided not to question this small miracle, though curiosity pulled at him constantly. It was hard to not think about actually, but he didn’t want to discover anything that might ruin the illusion. 

But it was getting awfully hard to resist, his fingers closing the tab with “Rock Lee” in the search bar multiple times. 

During these days, he would often tag along with Temari on various errands. Temari ran many nonprofit organizations, mostly land and animal conservation. She also helped Baki (their caretaker) with some of the household chores. During the day, Gaara would cook, finding random recipes that interested him. Kankuro complained. 

Actually, Kankuro cried, tears streaming down his face as he chugged milk straight from the carton. Face red, with a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he cussed out Gaara. Later when Gaara asked how he liked it Kankuro replied, “It’s not going in that I mind, it's coming out.” 

From then on he made sure to make Kankuro’s more mild. Slightly anyways. 

Kankuro also took him shopping one day, helping him donate his older clothes. They were wandering the mall, devoid of people on a Wednesday morning. Gaara disliked the mall; it was too bright, and too many people asked his questions. Gaara didn’t need any help, thank you very much. His brother was more than enough help. 

They were scoping out some jeans, Kankuro expertly sliding through the racks. 

“I don’t want ripped jeans,” Gaara said, pointing to his brother's torn ones. 

“They don’t come _ripped_ , they happen during work.” 

“You’re working and in school?” Gaara asked conversationally. 

“No. I graduated… You got me this watch.” He gestured to his wrist. ”Don’t you remember?” Kankuro eyed him, eyes squinted beneath pierced brows. 

Gaara nodded. Gaara was lying. Kankuro wasn’t convinced.

The only memories he felt were solid were the ones he had since Saturday. Reaching into his memories was like reaching into swampy water. Everything felt murky and hard to recall. Maybe he should start a diary… 

“Hey what about these?” Kankuro asked, holding up a pair of wide-leg jeans. 

“They’re so big.” 

“Yeah that’s what’s trendy now, we’re getting you a pair.” He put them on his arm with five or six other pairs of pants (of which Gaara made sure some were of the sweat variety), and various shirts, sweaters, collared shirts, all of which Kankuro assured Gaara of their trendiness. Gaara wondered what kind of clothes Rock Lee wore. They checked out using a shiny black card. 

“You know what would be really fun to do while we’re here?” 

“What?” Gaara asked. 

Kankuro flung an arm around his baby brother. “Come, I know a place.” His smile grew nice and wide. Too wide. 

Of course, Temari was not impressed when she got home to see Gaara with two hoops in one ear and three in the other. Her temper was only slightly mitigated by the wonderful selection of clothing Kankuro had picked out. That didn’t stop her from accidentally swapping the plates of food at dinner so Kankuro would feel a little more heat. 

Gaara took in his surroundings, the sleek modern decor of their home, the lively discussion of the dinner table (which was later joined by Baki, who brought three miniature tiramisu cakes and a bowl of fruit for Temari). He felt his lips tug upwards. He wasn’t confident how long this could last, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive. He brushed his hair gently back, aware of how long they have grown. He was careful not to touch his new piercings. _Sai will get a kick out of them,_ he thought. 

After helping Baki clean, he went upstairs to kill some time, deciding that a journal wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. Though temptation loomed, he managed to stay distracted enough to avoid looking up the owner of the voice. Barely. That didn’t stop him from recalling what the voice sounded like. Now firmly committed to memory. 

Anxiety plagued him every time before he hit play. While he and the face-eating dog he called sleep were on good terms, the saying “once bitten, twice shy” remains true. 

Even if the dog cuddled up against him now, he was still wary that one day it’ll turn on him. That sleep will open its wide jaws and swallow him whole. Shaky hands pressed the play button, acting quickly before he could change his mind.

Gaara was determined to make it past the breathing stage tonight. He wanted to hear more of that voice. He wasn’t nearly satisfied. He drank coffee beforehand, hoping he might just stand a chance against the magic the tender tones had on him. He was wholly unsuccessful. The voice settled the drum of heart, the ache of his soul and the weight of the ghosts that held him down. 

______

New routines were settling themselves in Gaara’s life. Shower. Cook. Clean. Adventure. Eat. Kill time. Sleep. 

Now he had to add ear care in there too. He stared at the slightly red punctures in his lobes and ears. He wouldn’t lie and say they didn’t sting a little, especially the one that bit through cartilage. He took a long look at himself, and pulled out the scissors (more like hunted for them for about twenty minutes before finding a pair), and took them to his long dark red locks. He watched the pieces fall into the sink. The strands fell like they were happy to be freed, gleefully drifting into the sink.

Holding the lock that covered his heart-shaped scar, he snipped it, revealing the old pale wound. An odd patch that sat in the corner of his forehead. He looked at it for a moment before blinking away. 

He also trimmed the sides, revealing his new piercings and removing the mullet (he didn’t care if Kankuro said they were in). It was a shaggy cut, a little asymmetrical. But an improvement to the mop he had before.

He looked both older and younger than he remembered--the boyish youth almost gone from his face--but he also looked healthier, taller. The bags still hugged the curves beneath his eyes, but they were healing, his gaze was sharp and clear now. A body that had someone living it. 

Throwing on a soft henley and a pair of loose-fit jeans, he joined Temari for a late breakfast. Gaara remembered she was going out later. For something. He was still piecing some things together. The journal was helping, but he didn’t want to admit how little he knew of his surroundings. He didn’t want to ask too many questions. 

Grabbing a bowl of cereal, he joined Temari at the table. The bowl was a pretty white, slightly square shape… _Maybe I should take up throwing lessons_ … 

Temari was quiet. In the background, the sound of Kankuro's TV program was faintly audible.

Gaara remembered this at least: that a quiet Temari was not a good thing. 

Gaara swallowed.

He took a bite of his cereal. The crunching felt enormously loud. Ridiculously loud. Even the clatter of the spoon on the pretty porcelain bowl was too loud. Maybe she didn’t like his haircut. Maybe it was the piercings. 

“I think you should see a therapist,” Temari said, her voice casual, her gaze looking out the window as if she commenting on the weather. 

Gaara felt cold, his stomach dropping and flopping around like a fish. Then he felt hot, on fire. He rolled up the sleeves on his now too soft shirt. 

“I…” 

Gaara’s mind went blank. _I don’t want to. I’m fine. Let’s stop talking about it._

“I’m fine Temari.” He whispered, his voice rough. 

Temari leaned closer to hear better before she sighed and turned her head to shout loudly enough that it hurt Gaara's ears: “WOULD YOU TURN THAT DOWN KANKURO.” 

The sound of the TV only got louder. 

Gaara noticed her brow twitch. 

But then, something even wilder than his sister springing therapy on him happened. He heard something that almost knocked him off the high stool he sat on. It certainly knocked the breath out of him. 

It was Rock Lee. It was his voice.

Gaara was absolutely sure. Without a shadow of a doubt. He ran to the living room, sliding into the back of the couch and gripping it, to hold himself up. 

“Turn that up.” He ordered Kankuro, who for once, obeyed. 

On-screen was a montage of a young man. Tall. Black hair. It cut to an interview. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“No.” the man said seriously, gaze steadfast, “Not for this fight.”. His eyes were large and black. Hair tousled, darker and shinier than Temari’s boots. It looked soft. His skin was a light brown. His voice… 

“That’s him,” Gaara whispered. He climbed over the back of the couch, eyes never leaving the screen. He plopped down next to Kankuro, knees tucked to his chest. 

“That’s wh-” 

“SHHHHHHH!” He shushed his brother. 

The montage finished, and another one started of a young man with brown hair and a lot of dogs. 

“What is this?” Gaara asked. 

Kankuro opened his mouth, testing to see if he would be interrupted, and then continued. “This is _The Contender Series_. It’s a UFC thing.” 

Gaara felt someone sit next to him. Temari. 

“That’s your voice,” she said. 

“That’s Rock Lee.” 

The three of them watched with intensity. 

Their eyes focused on the young man who walked up to ring; one with curiosity, one with enthusiasm, and one with concentration. Gaara couldn’t move his eyes from Rock Lee. He was… different than he had expected. Younger. More handsome. Harder. It only made Gaara feel softer. 

The two fighters stepped into the ring one after another. Rock Lee was completely still, while the brown-hair fighter was pacing. 

“Are you sure that’s him?” Kankuro asked. 

“In the blue corner is Rock Lee!” The announcer declared. 

"Oh." Kankuro ducked his head and muttered something else Gaara didn't catch. 

Gaara missed the name of the other fighter. The men on screen tapped gloves and Rock Lee bowed slightly to the other. The referee blew the whistle. 

Rock Lee briefly lowered his stance. In an instant, he sprung up with his leg out, spinning to kick his opponent square across the jar. The other man went down like a sack of bricks, skidding across the floor of the octagon.

The cacophony of noise that followed was incomprehensible. Kankuro jumped up from the couch exclaiming: “Holy shit!”

The commentators were losing their minds. It was a world record knockout. 

“Your guy is a monster,” Kankuro told Gaara.

On the screen, Rock Lee rushed to help his opponent showing concern on his face as the medics picked up the beat-up man; leaving behind the shattered ego on the floor. He saw Rock Lee’s coach wrap him in a big hug, tears falling freely, and a small smile tugged at the fighter's face. The enthusiastic coach offered him a towel he didn’t even need. 

They replayed the kick. One commentator mentioned how clean and effortless the kick was, while the other two could still barely contain themselves. 

A microphone was shoved in Rock Lee’s face. 

“On to the next,” he said, pointing somewhere in the crowd. Only a few words. Gaara wanted more. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to hear more. He wanted to know more. It wasn’t fair. 

Rock Lee nodded to his coach and walked off. His coach plugged his social media channels and made a speech about youth and something else. Gaara stopped listening. 

The man behind the voice was revealed, and nothing had changed. No. That’s not true. 

Everything had changed. The hunger inside him grew and he would no longer be content with not knowing. He was past that now.

All three of them looked at the screen with open jaws. 

Temari leaned back. “Can’t say I expected that.” 

Kankuro looked at Gaara and smoothed out his hair. “Nice job Cowlick.” 

Gaara ruffled it back up. 

“You didn’t tell me the guy you’re in love with is a fucking cool UFC fighter.” 

“I’m not in love with him.” Gaara shot back lowly. _I don’t think so anyway._

“Whatever dude. That was the coolest shit I’ve seen. He’s going to go pro.” 

“Really?” 

“No doubt.” 

“Well, this has been great and all, but I gotta run. We’ll talk more later Gaara.” Temari flicked the back of Kankuro’s head as she left.

 _Looks like Rock Lee saved me again._ Gaara sighed in relief. 

For the rest of the day, he hung out on the couch with Kankuro, binge-watching _The Contender Series_. Kankuro was right, there was nothing the other fighters achieved that was even close to what Rock Lee accomplished. 

During the commercial breaks, Gaara gave in fully and checked out all of Rock Lee’s social media pages. He deep-dived on Rock Lee, but there was a surprising lack of information. He seemed active on his Twitter, but something was off about it, and Gaara couldn’t put his finger on it. It was mostly photos of him training, bare-chested with wraps up to his elbows. Motivational quotes appeared above the photos.

He re-watched the fight about a dozen times. His heart tugged and he didn’t know why. He ended up saving a single photo of Lee. He ignored the professionally taken ones, where he stared into the camera, an edge to his eyes, but instead saving a softer one, from far back on the timeline. One where his eyes were almost closed, eyebrows raised in a half-laugh. An incomplete laugh.

He later joined Kankuro on the balcony while he smoked. Gaara’s unused telescope sat in the corner. It was sunset. 

He still preferred the dawn. But he also preferred being a living human being instead of a breathing piece of furniture. 

“So…” Kankuro inhaled, “what are you going to do about this?” He said on the exhale. 

Gaara watched the smoke travel downwind. 

“Do what?” he said. 

Kankuro huffed, looking at him with disdain. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb with me. That _barely_ works on Temari.” Kankuro offered him a cigarette, which he put a hand up to. “When you are going to reach out to this guy?” 

Gaara shrugged and leaned his back on the balcony. Above, the stars were starting to become visible. There was a planet. Gaara couldn’t identify which one. 

Kankuro rested his elbows on the rail. “Gaara, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that absorbed in anything before.” 

“What am I supposed to do about it?” 

Kankuro tsked--or clucked, it was a strange noise that escaped through his teeth. “I don’t know, send him a photo of your dick.” Kankuro chuckled at his own joke. “Email him, or ask why he hasn’t updated his podcast since last year.” 

Gaara’s head snapped towards Kankuro. “What?” 

His brother's cigarette almost fell out of his mouth. “You mean you haven't noticed? He hasn’t updated since March of last year.” 

Gaara pulled up his phone in the middle of Kankuro's sentence, and there on the tenth episode was the date: March 13th 20XX. 

The wind knocked right out of him. He hadn’t thought to check. He’d thought they were new, that Rock Lee was constantly updating. It hadn't occurred to him that his biggest comfort at the moment might have already ended. 

“Listen.” Kankuro poked him on the shoulder, earning a dark side-eye from the redhead, “now you have an opening!”

Gaara shut his phone and put it away. Disappointment spread through his chest like ice. “I guess so.” _I guess I could just listen to old episodes. I guess maybe this will be all it is. I should be more grateful._

Kankuro put out his cigarette and stood up. He looked down at his brother. His eyes lingered on his scar for a moment, before meeting them squarely. 

“You used to be much shorter,” he told his little brother. 

“You used to be much skinnier,” Gaara replied. 

“You’re such an asshat.” Kankuro moved to open the door but halted his actions. “You know Temari is right, right?” 

Gaara knew what he meant. Temari was always right. 

“I know.” 

Kankuro looked like he wanted to say something more, but he shook his head and opened the door. “You’re going to make dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah,” Gaara said, following his brother indoors. 

“No red sauce?”

“No red sauce.” _For such hardcore dude, you’re such a wimp,_ Gaara thought, and he made dinner—no ‘red sauce’. 

After dinner, Gaara headed up to his room. He wrote in his journal, but mostly he doodled Rock Lee’s face, repeating the words of his post-interview fight. Rock Lee speaking normally seemed to have no effect on his ability to sleep. It was only after it took on that quality, that peaceful and tame characteristic. 

Afterwards, he texted Sai a good morning and read a few chapters in his book, but he couldn't delay it any longer. It wasn’t only Temari that was right. Kankuro was too. It was too late to let it go. He wasn’t sure if he should call it a crush, or a fascination, or a curiosity, but he had to pursue it. Love was foreign, a strange concept that—even being fully awake—he couldn’t piece together. 

There were only five episodes left to listen to. 

His phone buzzed, and a little notification appeared with Sai’s face: _Good Evening Gaara!! ^^_

Gaara thought for a moment, running his finger on the edge of the case. 

_i want_ —He erased his text and restarted. 

_..._

_i want to talk to rock lee, but i dont know how to start,_ Gaara wrote. 

A reply showed up faster than expected: _Compliment him! Maybe thank him too?_

Gaara pondered this.

 _are you sure?_ he finally typed out. 

_Positive_ 👍

_You got this Gaara!_

The text was then followed up a few minutes later by a nude picture of a man with Rock Lee’s face photoshopped on top. 

Gaara put his face in his hand and groaned, but he couldn’t keep in the little chuckle that escaped him. He was pretty sure it was David Hasselhoff under Rock Lee’s face. 

_im blocking you now._ Gaara messaged him. 

The only reply was a big fat heart. 

Opening Spotify, he found an email address: rlee_@xxxxx.com. He brought up his own email and started writing: 

> Dear Rock Lee,
> 
> I really like the sound of your voice

Gaara stopped for a moment. _Why am I taking Sai’s advice…_

After starting and restarting for about an hour, Gaara finally managed to cobble together something that sounded… okay. It still mortified him to do this. 

But it also excited him. Thrill and dread ran through him simultaneously. 

> Dear Rock Lee, 
> 
> I must thank you for your podcast, as it has greatly improved my quality of life. I am feeling more rested than I have in a long time ( _ever_ , Gaara thought to himself). I was wondering if you had any intention of continuing it?
> 
> Thank you, 
> 
> Gaara S.

A whole hour for three short sentences. He pressed send, resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room. Instead, Gaara put on his earbuds (as his headphones nagged his sensitive piercings). 

The fear of sleep was overshadowed tonight by curiosity. Gaara could probably function for weeks without sleeping with how well-rested he felt. It didn’t matter. He wanted to hear Rock Lee, with his dark eyes and a half-smile, the man with the fastest knockout in UFC history… 

Gaara pressed play, standing up this time in an attempt to stay awake, but waves of calm washed over him, the soft and gentle voice was too much. _How could someone so violent be so tender? Who are you, Rock Lee…?_

The next morning, Gaara woke up, and while he usually took his time getting up, savouring the last bit of sleep, today he almost lunged for his phone, diving for it across the bed.

No messages. 

Gaara tried not to feel rejected—it was still early. He tried to manage his hair, but his homemade haircut only made it stick up even more. 

He padded downstairs to see only Baki tidying up the kitchen. 

“Where're the others?” Gaara asked his tall caretaker. While the bulk of his role had been over for many years, he was a part of the family and was still employed to help the siblings around the house and to procure documents. At least, as far as Gaara knew. 

“At work.” 

“Oh.” 

“Perhaps a stroll?” 

They lived near the Mojave Desert. It was glorious, with open skies and large orange blocks of mountains littered with brightly coloured flowers. 

Gaara considered this for a moment. He didn't really feel like a walk, but he couldn't even remember that last time he and Baki had a one-on-one.

“I can attend if you wish, Gaara,” he said with a kind, unassuming smile. “It's been a long time.” 

Vague memories passed in front of Gaara of a man who loomed taller than the mountains. The memory was fuzzy and patched together, slipping between his fingers before he could really grasp it. 

“Okay.” 

Their coats weren’t needed for such a seasonable day, so they were left behind. They drove together a short distance before pulling over to a small path. 

The clouds covered large stretches of their view, leaving mile-long shadows below on the orange dirt. The sky between the clouds was a bright blue that almost stung to look at. It was glorious. He snapped a photo. 

“Shall we?” Baki asked. 

Gaara nodded. 

Together they walked in silence, each soaking in the view. It was familiar and nostalgic. Gaara wanted to ask if they’d done this before, but he didn’t. He held his tongue. It somehow made him feel like crying. 

The wind blew in his face, drying any moisture from his eyes. 

“What was my mother like?” Gaara asked. 

There was a clip in Baki’s step, and his hand went up to secure his Dastar. 

“Your mother, well, she was like those flowers.” He pointed to bright purple flowers that dotted the base of one of the hills, the wind making them ripple. 

“What about my father?” 

Baki’s eyes closed in contemplation and then pointed in the distance. “Your father was like those.” 

Gaara could clearly see the vultures circling around and around. 

“I see.” 

Gaara opened his mouth to ask another question, but Baki cut him off: “Please Gaara, no more questions.” 

There was something, _something_ , that was nagging at the back of Gaara’s brain. He wanted to keep asking questions, but Baki's tightly pressed lips told him he would have to wait. 

He could be patient. Everyone was with him. 

Baki and Gaara took a circular path that would wind back to the car. The sights were breathtaking, filling in the silence. The rock of anxiety that sat in his chest from sending the email to Rock Lee was starting to loosen. He stopped to take one more photo, which was of a phallic-looking cactus for Sai. 

Gaara felt more peaceful than the morning. 

“Thank you,” he told Baki, who only nodded solemnly and respectfully back at him. 

Gaara made dinner for his siblings when he got home. He wrote in his journal, added an entry about Baki. He fell asleep to Rock Lee’s voice.

The next few days passed in a similar fashion. No message from Rock Lee. 

Temari told him it would all work out. Kankuro told him to tweet at him, but Rock Lee’s Twitter was active, only making Gaara feel worse with each inspirational quote. 

Five days had passed, and he was out of episodes. A depressive cloud hung over Gaara’s head. 

“Well aren’t you a moody brat?” Kankuro asked after lunch that day. 

Gaara rolled his eyes and settled more into the couch. 

“You’re sulking, like a maiden. Should I get you a fan and handkerchief?” 

Gaara levelled a look at him. “Are you going to put something on the TV? Or should I just go upstairs now?” 

“You’re such a vibe-killer.” Kankuro looked at him. “Your hair looks stupid.” But he clicked on the TV regardless. “Hey, you wanna come get a tattoo with me this afternoon?” 

“Temari is going to kill you.” 

“Just you wait, I’m going to get one on my face.” 

This brought a small smile to Gaara’s face. Much better to have Temari’s anger directed at Kankuro than at Gaara for dodging the therapy topic. 

“Sure.” 

Gaara’s phone buzzed. _A little early for Sai…_ he thought. Though it wasn’t totally impossible for him to text at this time. He did stay up late sometimes to get assignments finished. 

His heart flopped like a fish at the notification. An email from Rock Lee had appeared on his screen. Gaara quickly turned off his phone and stared straight ahead instead of reading further. His heart thundered like a pack of wild horses. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. 

It took him a few minutes to gather himself. 

He excused himself. Kankuro asked if he had the runs too. 

Gaara didn’t even reply as he went to the bathroom. He closed the door and sank down cross-legged. 

The phone rested in his lap. A black square of terror. _Maybe I do need a handkerchief,_ Gaara thought. _Or a fan._

He ran a hand through his choppy locks. _Get it together._

He opened the phone and clicked on the notification. 

> Hello Gaara! 
> 
> I am so sorry for the late reply. I don’t really use the computer much, so I only saw it now. I hope you can forgive me for the delay. 
> 
> Unfortunately, due to the lack of popularity, my coach (and social media manager, his name is Gai) decided that we should focus our attention elsewhere. But feel free to call me at XXX-XXX-XXX, perhaps we could mediate over the phone. 
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> Rock Lee

Gaara re-read the message over and over. A phone call. _A phone call._

Elation crawled over his skin. For some reason, this had never occurred to him. It seemed too intimate—too soon—like he should have to work a lot harder to get the number of a guy who could… kick like that. 

Gaara resisted the urge to text him immediately. Instead, he created a contact for him in his phone, adding the image he’d saved of him. He couldn’t believe how embarrassing he was acting. He looked at the contact he made, and a smile ghosted on his face. 

Eventually returned to Kankuro. 

“It was the chilli, wasn’t it?” his brother asked. “You were in there for a long time.” 

“Rock Lee got back to me.” 

“That made you have diarrhea?” 

Gaara had to resist the urge to push him over. 

“No, I was reading his message.” 

“O _hhhhhh._ ” Kankuro tilted his head back, looking at him through squinted eyes. 

“Not like that, you idiot.” now Gaara really did push him over this time. Well, as much as he could, but Kankuro barely budged. He couldn’t really care. Rock Lee got back to him, the cloud over his head disappeared. It was ridiculous that a person he didn’t even know could affect him this way, although, maybe it was natural to be curious about the person who had singlehandedly changed your life. 

That evening, while Gaara was holding his brother’s hand as he wiggled and moaned in pain during his face tattoo, he decided to text Rock Lee. 

_hey, its gaara, id like to take you up on your offer._ He pressed send after deciding to drop the formality and looked down at his brother. 

“Temari is going to be so mad.” He really did try to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Good,” Kankuro said, and the blue-haired tattoo artist shushed him, placing violent purple crescent shapes on his cheeks. 

It was about twenty minutes or so before Gaara’s phone buzzed against his thigh. Gaara put a knuckle to his mouth. 

_call anytim, sry i dont txt v much :)_

This felt like too much power. That he could just… ring up Rock Lee whenever he wanted and hear his warm, gentle voice. That he could ask him where that almost smile he once wore went? That he could tell him thank you, in person? Confess that he would be the undoing of Gaara? 

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken over the phone. It had been ages since he last called Sai, or anyone for that matter. 

“Rock Lee texted you, didn’t he?” Kankuro asked when the tattoo artist was changing needles. 

Gaara nodded. 

“You look happy, _awe_ , look how cute you are. Are your cheeks getting red?” 

“Well, they are now.”

Kankuro chucked. 

Gaara shrugged off his condescension, and the artist picked up where she left off. 

_could i call you tonight?_ , Gaara typed with one hand. 

The reply came faster this time: _yes_

Thankfully the only thing Temari threw when they got home was a fit. She couldn’t even see the tattoos due to them being covered, but Kankuro showed her the photo like the idiot he was. Temari threatened to take away Kankuro’s credit card. 

“You can’t do that!” Kankuro complained. 

“According to dad’s will, I can.” 

“But I got them in your favourite colour.” 

“My favourite colour is _green_.” Temari was so close to pulling at her hair. “Oh my god Kankuro, can you behave for a day?” 

“Don’t know,” Kankuro said, resting his head on his fist—like Shirley Temple. “Gaara what do you think?” 

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Gaara and Temari said at the same time. 

“Whatever. I can’t with this right now, call me when your brains crawl back into that empty head. You’re lucky you’re in the arts.” 

Temari stalked away. 

Kankuro started to laugh.

“Did you see her? She was _fuschia_.” 

“You’re a glutton for punishment aren’t you?” 

Kankuro started to peel back the bandage, and Gaara slapped his hand away. “Didn’t you listen? You can’t take these off yet.” 

Kankuro smiled at Gaara’s stern tone. His expression literally said ‘gotcha’. Gaara started to walk away from his very annoying brother.

“Gonna call your boyfriend?” Kankuro cooed. 

“Yup,” Gaara said, not taking the bait. 

He marched upstairs, changed into sweats and laid back on his bed. His heart was pounding even thinking about calling. What was he even going to say, hey I like your voice, will you talk to me all soft so I can sleep? Hey, I’m a random stranger, can I ask you deep questions about your personal life? 

He knew what Sai would ask, ‘What are you wearing?’

Gaara tried to lower his expectations. He would probably make awkward conversation for a few minutes before Rock Lee took pity on him and started the breathing exercises, which even though it was barely nine PM, would probably make him fall asleep. 

He just hoped he wouldn’t fuck this up. Gaara sat up and fidgeted with his clothes. As if it made a difference. As if it would calm his beating heart. 

Gaara opened the contact, his eyes looking at the mouth in the picture, and then to the eyes, caught in a moment. He pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear. 

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Gaara was about to hang up when he heard a voice, louder than he expected, but just as rich as he remembered, speak:

“Hello.”


	2. Act Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who left comments, I debated between responding to them all or getting this chapter out faster (which I think you guys would probably enjoy more). Being on the other side of the comments for once and I have to say, they really do make your whole damn day. 
> 
> Also, I have to stress, this fic would be an absolute hot mess if it weren't for the keen and patient eyes of a_gay_poster and umauzumaki. Whose corrections, advice and suggestions are a huge part of this story. Thank you so much for being the best betas one could ask for!

“Hello?...” the voice rang out. It was Lee, with his warm, enveloping voice speaking directly to him. More real than any of the recordings. 

Without thinking about it, Gaara hung up. It took a second for his mind to piece together what exactly he had just done. 

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck._

Gaara bashed his head on his knees, his phone hand going slack, before re-tightening his grip. He wasn’t ready for this. This was a mistake. It was too much. Did Gaara really think he could just hold a totally normal conversation with the guy who had plagued his thoughts day in and out? 

But if he didn’t call back… 

Well. He’d seem like a real idiot. Or worse, like a creep. _Oh god._

Gaara hit re-dial, a hand over his eyes. _I can’t believe I’m legally an adult._

This time it only rang once before a voice spoke: “Hello?” this time with a slight edge to the voice. 

It took everything Gaara had to force sound out of his vocal cords, and it came out almost inaudible. “It’s Gaara… my call dropped…” Gaara shut his eyes, mortified at himself. 

He was sure that bleeding out slowly would have been less painful than this conversation. Gaara was suddenly aware of how monotone he sounded, at how rocky his voice was, and how unpleasant it must be for someone to listen to. 

“Oh! That’s okay, it might have even been on my side,” the voice reassured him. “So how did you hear about my podcast?” the man on the line supplied conversationally.

 _Think Gaara, think_. “My friend Sai, he recommends podcasts for me to sleep to.” There was silence for a few too many seconds.

“I see,” Rock Lee said. An awkward laugh followed. 

_Oh my god, did I just call him boring? Please let lightning strike me where I am._

“I have trouble sleeping… and…” _Okay, choose your words carefully now._ “... your voice helps me fall asleep.” Gaara swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, giving the strands a slight tug. 

Gaara didn’t need to see a mirror to know his face was red. Gaara also didn’t need a mirror to reflect on the fact that he was a complete moron. No, he was too busy running through the million other, better, less embarrassing things he could have said instead when his thoughts were cut off. 

“I’m glad, making those podcasts was really fun. I miss making them,” the gentle voice said, blowing away the awkward air Gaara had made. 

“You said there was a reason you stopped, right?” Gaara asked naively as if he hadn’t read the email about a hundred times. 

“Yes, unfortunately, it was quite time consuming and not as popular as my coach thought it would be.” 

_He sounds… disappointed._

“That’s too bad,” Gaara said gravely, switching the phone to his other ear. “Is your coach… nice?” 

“Oh yes!! Gai is truly wonderful, it would be impossible for me to get to where I am without him. He only ever wants the best for me,” Lee assured. 

Gaara wasn’t sure how to respond, which wasn’t a problem, as Rock Lee filled the silence with ease. 

“He’s also really amazing with social media, so he runs all my Twitter and Facebooks. It allows me to focus solely on my training.” _Ah._ Now Rock Lee’s Twitter made all the sense in the world. There was a reason for the disconnect… and the ghosting. 

“For UFC right?” Gaara asked. It was much easier to be asking the questions.

“That’s right,” he replied, voice tinted with pleasure. 

“I saw your fight the other day,” 

“Oh you did? Are you a big UFC fan?” 

“I’m not, but my brother is.” 

“Hmmm…” It was quiet for a moment. “What’s he like?” 

“He’s an asshole,” he told him frankly. 

There was a chuckle from the other side of the line. It was different from the air-clearing laughs from earlier. Gaara could almost see the photo of Lee in a half-laugh, not quite giving in to a full one. It sounded warm, and Gaara wanted to hear it again. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Gaara asked. 

“No.” A beat, “Not really.” 

“You’re probably better off. Mine can be a pain.” 

“Do you love them though?” Rock Lee asked delicately. 

“I do.” Gaara wasn’t sure when it happened, but Rock Lee managed to make him feel at ease. It wasn’t quite the same effect that his soft, meditative voice produced, but it sent waves of calm through him. 

“Do you mind waiting just a moment?” Lee asked. 

Gaara shook his head before realizing he needed to verbalize his response. “Go ahead.” There were shuffling sounds before silence. Gaara shifted to lie on his stomach. 

Somehow Gaara had managed to avoid total disaster. So far. He tried to stay calm. 

A handful of minutes later, the sounds of a phone being picked up played through his receiver. 

“Sorry about that, I had to switch over the laundry.” Lee’s voice made his blood go right to his head. _So much for being calm, at least I didn’t hang up this time._

“Mhm.” Thankfully for Gaara, he had thought of a question to ask while waiting. “How did you get into UFC?” 

“Oh, there really wasn’t much of a choice, but it was Gai’s idea.” Gaara wasn’t feeling too keen on this Gai. Lee’s tone seemed different as well. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about UFC? Or Gai?

That was okay. Gaara could pivot. Right? 

It was silent again, and the awkwardness started to creep back in.

Gaara debated between awkward silence and saying something stupid. 

“You... ” _Oh god, here we go…_ “said you miss making the podcasts?” Gaara said and then sighed quietly in relief.

“I do! Gai said it was really important to get a following and podcasts are really popular. Unfortunately, I think about a total of fifty people listened to it.” Another laugh to soothe the tension, to cover something, to distract. “There was something nice about the idea of helping people relax.”

“It worked,” Gaara said, too quickly. _Oops_. 

“I’m glad for that,” Lee said earnestly. “And honestly, it helped me out too. It was something different to focus on for a moment. That’s why I was thinking it might be fun if we meditated together…” 

Gaara’s heart thumped. 

“Or not,” Rock Lee continued. “No pressure at all, I jus-” 

“Sure.” 

“Sure?...Oh, sure!”

To be fair, Gaara honestly didn’t think he would fall asleep. It was only ten and he wasn’t even very tired. Plus, with his heart going a mile a minute, there was no way sleep even was possible. 

“Do you need to do anything before we get started?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, then let’s start. I think my routine has changed a bit since I recorded those episodes. I hope that won’t be a problem.” Lee took a breath. “What I do to start, is think about the place I want to be, so you can try that as well.” 

Gaara did exactly that, instead of lying in bed, he was suddenly lying next to Rock Lee. Perhaps his knee would be touching Gaara. He would be able to hear his breath near him. His presence would be heavy, warm and safe. Gaara couldn’t imagine what his expression would be. 

"Now, focus inside yourself. Breathe in, one, two--" Gaara heard his inhale and followed along. "--and four, now breathe out all the negative weight holding you down."

Gaara didn’t notice the transition, but Lee’s voice had taken on a different quality. It was slower than before and softer. Even smoother. Gaara could now hear the other qualities he had overlooked: like the fact that his voice wasn't particularly deep, but that it was very clear, and that it still held some of that lightness from before.

Gaara’s eyes were fighting to close. His lashes weighed a thousand pounds. 

Gaara smacked himself on his cheek. 

“Out- Gaara are you okay?” 

_Shit_. 

Rock Lee heard him. Rock Lee said his name. 

“Just a mosquito.” _In March, in my bedroom. Right on my cheek…_

Gaara heard a soft: “Oh,” before Lee picked back up. But this time, fighting sleep was impossible; by the time Gaara realized it was too late. Sleep pulled at him, tugged at him, held his hand down the dark corridor; robbing him of consciousness. Gaara wanted to tell Rock Lee to hang up, or say goodbye, or anything, but the only thing that would Rock Lee minutes later, was the light, delicate snores of Gaara, fast asleep. 

___

When Gaara woke up, he was entirely refreshed. Sunlight warmed his face, and he wiped the sleep from his eyes. Not fully awake yet, he patted around the bed until he located his phone. His eyes squinted, trying to make out the text on the phone. He tapped the bubble with Sai’s face that had a little red ‘1’ next to it. 

_you’re no fun now that you sleep :((_

_i think im more fun now,_ Gaara replied, and then brought the phone very close to his face to see what time it was sent. Sai had only messaged him forty minutes or so ago. 

_go to sleep._ Gaara saw his message get heart-reacted. He put his phone down and rolled over to his back, letting his eyes close again, enjoying the last sliver of sleep. 

Until they slammed back open. Gaara felt like someone had poured ice water over him. 

Rock Lee. He had called Rock Lee. 

He had fallen asleep on the phone… 

“Shit,” Gaara whispered, sitting up fast enough to make his head dizzy.

He opened his call logs and saw that the phone call went about fifteen minutes past the last time he remembered. 

_I’m an idiot._ As if Gaara hadn’t embarrassed himself enough last night on the phone, he had to fall asleep on the guy. He was nicer than Gaara deserved. _What am I going to do? He must think I’m such a dick._

 _sai, are you still awake?_ he texted. 

_oh now you want my attention 👀_

_yes,_ Gaara sent, and then added, _so i called him… and fell asleep on him._

Sai just sent him a voice clip of hysterical laughter. The sharpness hurt his ears.

 _ok so what do i do?_ Gaara asked. 

The bubble showing Sai was texting popped up and stayed up for longer than expected. 

_well, you could try to apologize for a start, have you done that?_ Sai finally typed out.

 _not yet,_ Gaara wrote.

_It would probably be a good start_

Getting advice from Sai was a mixed bag, that usually resulted in Gaara questioning their entire friendship; but he had no one else to ask. He would probably shrivel up and die if he tried to tell Kankuro or Temari. But this seemed like reasonable enough advice. Although the last time he’d thought that, he’d gotten kicked out of art school. 

_thanks sai, now go to bed for real,_ Gaara texted

 _Fine,_ Sai replied, and heart reacted to Gaara's last message. 

Gaara fiddled with the edge of his phone case. He debated calling, but he didn’t want to risk making a fool out of himself again. Opening their text chat instead, he began to type. 

_hey, im sorry about last night._

Gaara wrote about fifteen different additions to this but deleted each one before he hit send. He put his head in between his knees. _Man, I really hope I didn’t ruin this._ Eventually, Gaara got up to face the day. 

Suspense tugged at Gaara as he kept checking his phone. He caved and finally told his eldest sibling what had transpired on their way back from picking up dry cleaning. She said to just call the guy and apologize. A very practical response from someone so reasonable. 

“No, no, that’s definitely not a good idea,” he told her, being unreasonable. 

Temari didn’t push the topic. 

Gaara couldn’t help but recall their conversation, replaying it over and over in his mind, picking at it like a scab. It took time, but soon he was able to think about it without going red or having chest pains. Rock Lee was much more complex than he'd originally thought. He'd only gotten a taste of what the other man was like, and unfortunately, he hadn't learned much of substance. _And now maybe I never will._

It wasn't until later that evening after he'd retired early to his room (Kankuro had kept poking at his sour mood, and there was really only so much he could take), that his phone buzzed.

Gaara picked it up off his desk, dropping his pen in the middle of his journal. A breath left his chest, and he slumped over a little in relief when he saw it was from Rock Lee. He swiped opened the message immediately. 

_dw :)_

Well, that was far from calming his anxieties, but it was something, and it wasn’t angry. Gaara would take his victories where he could. 

_i can call you again?_ Gaara asked. It was like he was sending his heart over along with the text message. 

_Ofc same time nxt wk_

Gaara processed this information. He could manage a week. It would be a long week, but maybe by then, he could get his act together. His phone buzzed again. 

_sry i dnt txt much traning :(_

Gaara's heart unclenched. _So he’s not avoiding me._ Relief swam through his body, _I guess a pro-fighter needs lots of time to practice._

 _no worries, i’m looking forward to our next call,_ Gaara texted. He received a ‘ _me 2’_ , and Gaara felt his chest flutter. He put his index knuckle to his lips. Before picking up the pen and adding a few more things to Rock Lee’s entry in his journal: “very busy”, “doesn’t seem to like texting”, “free on tuesday evenings”, before turning back to Baki’s page. There was a quick doodle of the man in the corner. 

There was only one note for the tall, dark man, which was underlined: _Hiding something._ What? Gaara was willing to bet it had to do with his family. What else would be worth hiding? He was sure Baki had all sorts of dirt on his family, but what wasn’t he saying? He tapped the pen on his notebook, but nothing was coming to mind. 

Giving up, Gaara reached for the paperback beside him, flipping to the dog-eared page. _A mystery for another day._

____ 

The next few days followed a pattern. Gaara would text Rock Lee _good morning_ , and Rock Lee would text him _gud nite._ It was a small ritual, but it brought Gaara great joy. Gaara would listen to the backlog of podcasts to fall asleep and found while they weren’t as effective, they still kept the nightmares at bay. He could continue to pretend he was normal. For now.

That Saturday, while making french toast for a very hungover Kankuro, Gaara felt his phone vibrate. He almost dropped his phone into his egg mixture when the call was ID’d as his favourite mixed martial artist, calling four days earlier than he thought. He pressed accept and put the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello Gaara! It’s Lee!” the man said enthusiastically. 

“Who’s that?” Kankuro cajoled, retaining the ability to be annoying even with a splitting headache. 

Gaara shushed him, and Kankuro, whose head rested on the cool marble counter, raised his middle finger at him. 

“Hello Rock Lee,” Gaara replied finally, like a normal person. Not hanging up on the man, just conversational. 

“Just Lee is fine.” _Just Lee is fine. Just Lee is fine. Just Lee is fine._

“ _Hello Rock Lee,_ ” Kankuro shouted, head still on the counter. It was entirely possible he was still a little drunk. His cheeks were uncovered and now fully prone to infection from whatever surface Kankuro decided to inflict himself on. 

Gaara covered the bottom of the phone. “ _Shut up_ ,” he whispered loudly to Kankuro. 

“Sorry about that,” he told Lee.

“Don’t worry!” the voice reassured him. “I just wanted to let you know the good news.” 

“Oh?” 

“Hey Gaara, can you ask him how…” Kankuro trailed off because Gaara grabbed the plate of already made french toast and held it up over the garbage, cutting eyes at his brother. 

Kankuro sighed and went back to playing on his phone. 

“Well! I got a contract for the title fight. I have a spot on a card! It’s a prelim fight, and a good matchup too! I just wanted you to know… before you saw it on TV or something.” 

_He… wanted to tell me._

“You must be happy,” Gaara told him, dipping the next slice of bread into his egg mixture. 

“Relieved, actually,” he said. 

“It must have been the kick.” 

“The CEO told me he’s never seen anything like it, and he wants my next match to be as soon as possible.” 

“Will you have enough time to train?” Gaara said, putting the bread into the frying pan. 

“I think so. It’s in two weeks! Speaking of training, Gai’s telling me my break is over.” Gaara raised his lip at the mention of his name. Who was he to decide when Lee’s break was over?

“Tuesday?”

“Count on it,” Rock Lee told him softly, and then the dial tone followed. 

“How’s your _boyfriend_?” Kankuro asked as Gaara put away his phone. 

Gaara bit his tongue and dropped his bowl in the sink with a clatter. He tossed all the dirty utensils in for good measure, enjoying how Kankuro winced at the noise.

“Well, he told me he got a contract for the title, or something like that.” 

“Shut up,” Kakuro said, typing frantically on his phone. “I don’t see anything about it yet.” 

“Maybe he just found out?” Gaara supplied, getting plates, forks and maple syrup imported from Quebec. Temari didn’t eat refined sugar. 

Kankuro finally sat up after the food was placed in front of him, slathering on an absurd amount of butter that melted almost immediately. 

“That’s a big deal,” he said, taking a big bite—no fork or knife. “Are you nervous?” 

“About?”

“Him getting hurt.”

It had never occurred to Gaara that Rock Lee could get hurt. A tiny ball of dread began to grow in his stomach. He’d seen how brutal some of those fights were; fighters ended up with broken bones, concussions, wounds that might last them their life. Some fights even turned the blue mat red with blood. 

“Now I am.” 

“Don’t sweat it. I’ve never seen a rookie that good.” Somehow, this didn’t make Gaara relieved. 

Gaara poured a little maple syrup on top of his toast. Taking a small bite and chewing slowly, he wondered if this was really good news after all. 

__

Gaara didn’t have to wait as long to talk to Rock Lee again, as Tuesday rolled around faster than he expected. Who knew losing a couple of hours a day to sleep would make time go faster? 

Putting his phone on the table, he was unsure if he should call or wait for Rock Lee to make his move. Gaara wasn’t entirely sure what the other man thought of him. He liked him well enough to text him every day, he didn’t seem to hold a grudge for falling asleep on him, and he’d also called him on break to tell him about the news. 

But it was surprisingly hard to read a person through only their voice. Gaara only got half the picture. 

Better yet, Gaara wasn’t even sure about his own feelings. There was attraction, sure, but love? What even was love? His hand reached up to graze the mutilated scar on his forehead. 

_Can I love?_ Gaara thought. But he was shaken from his musing by the vibration on the hardwood. 

Nine PM on the dot. 

“Good evening, Gaara,” Lee said, and Gaara melted. 

“Evening, Rock Lee.” 

“Just Lee,” Lee corrected. 

_Shit._

“Sorry, good evening Lee.” 

There was silence for a moment, and Gaara thought he may have offended him. 

But his doubts were quickly put to rest. “How are you tonight?” 

“Fine. My siblings are being a pain.” 

“Oh, you have more?” Lee asked politely. 

“Kankuro is my brother. Temari is the eldest.” 

“It must never get lonely then,” Lee said in jest. 

_Lonely_. It seemed like what Lee said should be true—but it wasn’t. He had his siblings and Sai—friends he completely trusted—and yet the word circled around him, choking him, stealing the words from his mouth and the breath from his lungs. The truth of his emotions sat in his chest like iron. 

“Gaara?” Lee’s voice broke his reverie. 

“Sorry about that,” Gaara said very quietly. The word had branded itself on his soul. “How are you?” 

“Great! Gai-sensei has a new training regime for me. I have to be prepared for this match up. Although, it's already slightly skewed in my favour.” 

“How so?” Gaara asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“The guy I’m up against is a gatekeeper, very experienced but not up-to-date; however, unless you know your stuff, you’re not getting past him.” 

“Are you nervous?” Gaara asked. _Because I am._

“The more I train, the more confidence in myself I have. Kabuto is also a boxer, which is my specialty,” Lee’s earnest voice rang out through the phone. 

“Are you… weak at anything?” Gaara asked tentatively. 

“I hate to admit it, but my ground game isn’t as good as it should be. Wrestling was never my strong suit,” Lee confessed. 

Gaara reached up to his ear, spinning one of the rings, thinking. It still stung slightly. 

“But I’m going to win. I’m not worried.” 

“Mhm,” Gaara replied, worried. 

“Are you planning to watch the match?” 

There wasn’t anything in the world that would stop him. While he and Kankuro had been watching more UFC together, he couldn’t exactly call himself an expert yet, nor was he particularly invested. But he wanted to know more about Rock Lee’s world, maybe then he could understand Lee better. 

“I am, my brother is quite excited,” Gaara said, his voice like gravel. 

“Are you?” 

“I am,” Gaara said, hand reaching to grab his shoulder, hugging himself. Something about Lee revealing so much of himself made Gaara want to do the same. 

“That makes me glad, knowing someone who will cheer me on—well, other than Gai-sensei of course.” 

“There’s no one else?” 

“No, not really,” Lee said with a little laugh. 

Perhaps Lee understood the word ‘loneliness’ better than Gaara.

“Kankuro will be loud enough, you’ll probably hear him from the ring,” Gaara said. 

Lee laughed, a fuller one than before, and it brought corners of Gaara's lips up. 

“What about you? Are you still… sleeping okay?” Lee said, a slight hesitation in his speech. 

“I am,” Gaara said. “I can’t ever recall feeling better.” Despite the open sentiment, it was still a major understatement. He had Lee to thank for that.. Gaara couldn’t even begin to think of ways to repay him. The debt was too huge, too overwhelming. How does one begin to repay a person for giving your life back? 

And there was still the fragile fear that eventually he would be given a reason to avoid sleep once more.

“I’m glad,” the voice said warmly. 

“And—I want to say—sorry for... “ _Being an idiot? Saying the wrong thing?_ “For falling asleep on you,” Gaara told him, each word being pulled from his throat. 

“Oh that? Don’t even worry about it Gaara! I don’t even know what time zone it is for you.” 

“Pacific Standard Time,” Gaara replied, grabbing the pen cap off the table. 

“Me too! We must not live very far from each other. I have to live near Las Vegas since that’s where most of the UFC matches are held.” 

“I only live two hours or so from there,” Gaara said. 

The idea of Lee living so close opened doors Gaara hadn’t even thought of. All of a sudden ideas of exploring the desert together, cooking together, talking in person filled his mind. He wouldn’t need to text when he could just say things to his face. That was, of course, if Lee wanted to meet him at all. 

“I’m glad you’re not upset that I fell asleep on you,” Gaara told him after a beat. 

“Not at all, I’m sure you must live a busy life--" _Oh yes, so busy._ "--and

it’s nice to just meditate with someone else.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all,” Lee said. It felt like a hug. “In fact, it’s starting to get a little late. Should we start?” 

“Sure,” Gaara said, leaning forward, putting his head in his hand. 

It wasn’t long before Gaara’s form was slumped over his desk, eyes shut and arms folded under him. The phone lay beside him, the seconds of the call ticking by. 

When Gaara awoke, it wasn’t because the sun was out, or because his body had enough rest. It was because he heard a loud noise downstairs. 

He was sore from sleeping at his desk. Perhaps it was the position that made it easier to wake up. It was still incredibly dark out, so maybe it was Kankuro stumbling in. But then Gaara remembered: Kankuro had never gone out last night.

He heard another thump. 

This perturbed Gaara. Being a spectator of every evening up until recently, he was aware of the noises the house made. The sound of the AC starting, Kankuro snoring, Baki’s car pulling up, the car door being closed all too gently. 

This was not a usual noise. Gaara’s heart began to thump. What if there was someone in the house? They had the top-of-the-line security systems, but those weren’t foolproof. 

Gaara grabbed his phone in one hand and an empty glass in the other. He quietly padded downstairs, the thumps and bangs still audible, although more quiet now. Gaara tried to quiet his stuttering breath. 

He was able to locate the sounds to only the kitchen. It seemed like there was only one person. Gaara could take one person. Or a giant raccoon. Whatever it was. 

Putting his phone into his pocket, he ran his shaking hand against the wall until he located the switch. He took a shallow breath and flicked on the light. 

It wasn’t a strange man or an animal. It was only Temari, sitting at the kitchen island, spoon in one hand—and an ice cream tub in the other. 

“Temari?” Gaara said, eyes blinking at the bright light. 

“Gaara, what are you doing up?” she asked, her wide eyes darting to Gaara’s hand. “Why do you have a glass?” 

“I was thirsty,” Gaara covered, “and I heard a loud noise.” Gaara re-positioning the glass so it was held in a more normal, less weapon-wieldy way. “It’s a little early for you to be awake. You don’t go to work for another--" He checked his phone. "--four hours."

“I was hungry,” Temari said, dropping her spoon... and her eyes. 

Gaara walked into the kitchen further, opening a drawer to grab a spoon and abandoning the glass to the sink. He then went around the island, sitting on the stool next to Temari. 

“Everything okay?” Gaara asked, pulling the ice cream tub out of Temari’s hand. He dipped his spoon in, only pulling out the brownie and cookie dough pieces. 

“Work has been so stressful lately,” she said. 

“You could just quit. You don’t need to work., Gaara said, and then put the spoon in his mouth, ice cream side down. 

“Yeah,” Temari said, “but I would be letting a lot of people down.” Her eyes were unfocused in the distance. 

They were silent for a moment, passing the ice cream back and forth under the too-bright kitchen lights at three-thirty AM. 

Temari was quiet, and Gaara was waiting.

“You know Gaara, I’m sorry for pushing therapy on you. I promise I won’t bring it up until you decide you’re ready for it,” she said, pushing the ice cream away. “If I can’t even work through my own vices; I have no reason to be nagging you too. It’s unfair.” 

“I don’t even know how long this will last for,” Gaara confessed. 

“Even if things go back to how they used, I’ll still be by your side,” Temari said, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

Speaking to Temari always made Gaara's eyes start to swim. _Maybe it’s just the bright lights_. 

“Thanks Temari, same here,” he choked out. 

“I should probably stop binging and go to sleep,” Temari said, scolding and taking care of herself simultaneously. She got up to grab a glass of water. “I’m sorry for waking you up.” There was a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“No, it was probably for the best,” Gaara said, stretching, his body still tender and achy from sleeping at his desk. He bade Temari goodnight and went upstairs.

Temari was the strongest person he knew. There was nothing he could tell her that she didn’t already know. He would be lying if he said this behaviour didn’t concern him, but he wasn’t sure what the best course of action was. As if Temari would take advice from someone who barely kept themselves together.

Falling back to sleep would be impossible for Gaara. Instead, he checked his phone logs and saw that his call with Lee had continued for a while after Gaara figured he fell asleep. Maybe Lee hadn’t noticed that Gaara fell asleep right away, or maybe he wanted to finish meditating. It still made him feel bad. 

Gaara noticed an unread message from Sai. Opening it, it saw that he had missed quite a bit: 

_Gaaraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_

_Are you awake??_

_Have you seen this yet?_ There was a large link to Youtube. It showed a thumbnail of a fighter he didn’t recognize. 

_Are you going to watch? It’s really early in the morning for me, but I wanna see it too_

_Also! What do you think of this?_ There was a painting of the photo Gaara had sent to him in the desert. 

Gaara clicked the link to the UFC video. It was a trailer for Lee and Kabuto’s match. There were quick edits between the two fighters with snippets of dialogue from them. Some of the videos seemed to be filmed at the dojo Lee was probably training at. They replayed the devastating kick from Lee and a handful of brutal blows from the grey-haired fighter. Gaara couldn’t help but wince, imagining those blows happening to Lee. The slow-motion spit leaving his mouth as he gets rocked back. The video ended with an image of their two faces ROCK vs KABUTO, lightweight, with the date and information of the fight below. 

Gaara pressed replay, admiring Rock Lee. His smooth movements, his unusual features. His eyes were so intense, and his hair was so shiny. Gaara’s heart filled with worry and affection. The promo image of Lee next to Kabuto was haunting. If he didn’t already know, he’d never have imagined that the voice of the person he had been speaking to was attached to that body. 

Unsure what was unfolding between the two of them, Gaara was sure _something_ at least was happening. Something that made him excited, that sent a jolt of thrill through him every time Lee texted back. It was a feeling that Gaara was reluctant to put a label on.

A notification from Sai popped up: _Don’t leave me on read_ 😭

 _sorry sai,_ Gaara typed back quickly and opened the photo of the painting. It was beautiful, more so than the photo he took. It was like the real thing, like being out there surrounded by the rich blue sky. It contained the soul of the desert, not just the image of it. It was Sai’s best work yet.

 _how much?_ he asked Sai. 

_For what??_

_the painting._

_You want to buy it????_ The message popped up after a second. 

_i thought that obvious._

_Free! You helped inspire it after all :),_ Sai wrote.

 _no sai, figure out a good price, or i will find a price for it._ Gaara threatened. 

_Fine, fine,_ Sai conceded, _let me think about it._

 _thanks sai,_ he wrote and then added: _btw i am planning to watch the match._

 _Well then maybe I’ll watch it too then, just to ogle at your boyfriend,_ Sai wrote. 

_i don’t know what we are, but we aren’t boyfriends,_ Gaara replied. 

_And you text every day?_

_yes,_ Gaara typed out.

_And he’s single?_

_i think so,_

_ >.>, _ Sai sent after a moment: _what are you waiting for?_

 _for my crippling social awkwardness to disappear,_ Gaara replied. 

_Ew, you’re so lame. Get on it before someone else does, or even me,_ Sai added unhelpfully. 

_i really hate you sometimes,_ Gaara typed out and then added, _think of a good price._

 _I will_ 💖 Sai replied.

Gaara closed his phone, sitting in the steadily lightening room. It had been a long time since he watched the sunrise. He walked to his window, opening it and letting the crisp night air greet him. It played with his hair as he leaned on the sill, tilting his head to get a better view. Soon the dawn crested the horizon. The sky was lavender with streaks of pure gold. The clouds were dark in the sky. The sun slowly brought in the day. A beginning with possibilities. A fresh start. 

He could see Baki pull into the driveway without a sound. He was also ready for a new day. 

___

The days leading up to the match passed by in a blur. The only remarkable event was when Lee called on Tuesday. He apologized, saying that he couldn’t meditate with Gaara or chat for long. He had to wake up extra early for laps with his coach (to which Gaara’s lips began to form a sneer). Gaara would have been disappointed if it weren’t for the fact that Lee was texting him twice a day. Once at his lunch break, and once in the evening. He usually would update Gaara on what his training had been on that day--very little of which Gaara understood--and would ask about Gaara's day, too. Not that Gaara had much to say, but regardless, he looked forward to it. 

In the meantime, he had also looked more into Lee’s competitor, Kabuto. Everything Lee had told him was true, but he had neglected to mention he was a former titleholder, an absolute monster even past his prime. His left uppercut was deadly, and he was almost impossible to knock out. 

Gaara pored over fan forums that discussed the fight, weighing the pros and cons of each fighter and who stood a better chance. They discussed the betting pool and how the odds were looking good for Lee. They compared everything from weight (which was a much bigger deal than Gaara had anticipated) to arm length to fighting styles. 

Some people seemed concerned that Lee might not make weight, and that Kabuto was going to go over. Reading the fan theories put Gaara a bit more at ease, but not entirely. People were saying it was safe enough to put your money on Lee. 

There was one other event that Lee had failed to mention. They televised the weigh-in. Kankuro told him that this was mostly a spectacle, where the fighters would smack talk and build up tension for the fight. 

There was no way either he or Kankuro would miss this event. It aired the day before the fight. Gaara was both hoping he would and wouldn’t make weight. He and Kankuro sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, leaning forward to the giant flat-screen TV. 

It was clear from the way they were presenting the fighters that even while Rock Lee wasn’t on the main card, people were excited for his fight. His fight was the last of the prelim fighters, and the announcer called out: “Now we have ROCK LEE and KAUBUTO YAKUSHI! This is a highly anticipated fight,” showing an image of two fighters before cutting to the blond-haired commentator. 

“I just want to punch his face,” Kankuro remarked about the annoying commentator. 

“Me too,” Gaara agreed, but then he decided to stop caring because on the TV, Rock Lee was taking off everything but his boxing shorts (which were short, and very… tight), revealing lean but substantial muscle. 

Gaara wanted to know what his body felt like, if it would be as warm as his voice was or hard like his eyes. 

The fighters needed to make a hundred and forty-six pounds but not go over a hundred and fifty-five, otherwise, the fight would be called off. However, the fighters would bulk up immediately after the weigh-in, sometimes getting as much as ten pounds heavier. Lee stepped on the scale, and the numbers bounced up before slowing down. One-forty-five… forty-six… forty-six point five! 

“He did it!” Kankuro exclaimed, throwing an arm around Gaara’s shoulder. The crowd cheered. The man on the scale said the total, and the loud announcer repeated it.

On the TV, Lee looked down and gave a little smile. A smile that Gaara found himself mirroring. He was on the money, but it had been close, he almost hadn’t made weight. Gaara wondered _, if this was such a struggle, why not drop a weight class? Why fight a man who might end up with twenty pounds on you? Surly his odds would be better against smaller opponents ... ideally ones that weren't built like a brick shit-house._

Lee went to stand next to his coach, who patted him roughly on the back.

Up next was Kabuto, who took off his robe with flair, the fabric slinking to the floor, revealing an array of ink-black snake tattoos that stood out on his pale skin. There was a slinkiness to his stride as he walked onto the scale. The scale shot up to one-fifty-four before slowly increasing until it hit exactly one-fifty-five. The number was announced (and then repeated). There were still a lot of cheers for the old crowd favourite. 

Lee and Kabuto then walked to meet in the middle of the stage, and the cameras followed them. This sort of face-off was routine. 

Rock Lee stared directly into Kabuto's eyes. His gaze was sincere but intense—absolutely unmovable. Like steel. Like his name. His opponent stared back, amusement in his eyes and an arc to his smile. Like poison. Like venom. 

The tension held for a handful of moments before it broke and they moved on to the main card weights. 

Gaara immediately went to the fan sites to read what people were saying. It seemed that the weight difference was a cause for concern. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it Gaara,” Kankuro told him later. “I got faith in the little guy.” Which did nothing to ease the tightness in Gaara’s stomach. 

The following morning—the morning of the fight—Gaara opened his phone to text Lee, to find that Lee had already texted him: _wish me luck_

 _i know you have this,_ Gaara texted back. He was so tense, it might as well have been him about to battle it out in the octagon. 

Kankuro was planning a _whole_ day. He'd invited his friends, including Deidara--the piercer who'd given him and Gaara their new holes--but they'd declined to go watch the fight at a bar instead. This did not deter Kankuro, however, who helped Gaara with making an array of fight night food and then picking up the good beer from a local brewery. 

Cooking helped keep Gaara distracted until the fight. His mind kept wandering to what Lee must be feeling. Was he scared? Confident? Excited? 

Gaara was a nasty cocktail of the three himself. 

However, he had plenty of work making two different types of dip, three different kinds of wings (two of which he knew Kankuro wouldn’t go near), one giant plate of nachos, bacon-wrapped jalapeno poppers and mini pretzel dogs. He also made some mozzarella, basil and tomato skewers, bruschetta and bite-sized egg quiches for Temari, who would be joining them just in time for Lee’s fight. It was a big job, for which he was grateful. Baki even stepped in to help with all the dishes, much to Gaara’s relief. 

Kankuro came back from getting the alcohol and ran into the bathroom (which was par for the course). When he emerged he had on green and black face paint that clashed horribly with his fresh tattoos, which honestly, have covered with paint. 

“Your turn,” Kankuro said with a pointed look at Gaara, holding up two small bottles of paint: green and white. 

Now Gaara had very few options, and all of them involved physical injury. Not wanting a hospital trip on Lee’s fight night, he hopped up on the counter quietly and closed his eyes, letting Kankuro make a mess of his face. 

After a minute or two of complete silence, he finally felt his brother take a step back. 

“Done!” Kankuro declared. 

Gaara pulled out his phone, turning on the front-facing camera. Kankuro surprisingly hadn’t made a total mess of his face. He had painted on large white circles around his eyes, horizontal green streaks on his cheeks, and one vertical streak from his bottom lip to his chin. 

“So… what do you think?” Kankuro prodded. 

“It’s fine,” Gaara said in a complete monotone. 

“I was thinking of giving you more eyebrows.” 

Gaara was about to retort when there was a racket from the entrance, and the brothers turned their heads to see who was coming in so noisily. High heels clacked on the floor. Temari had come in early. 

“I didn’t miss it, did I?” she said, slightly breathless. 

“No, as a matter of fact, you’re right on time,” Kankuro said, popping open his paints. A smile grew on his face.

Temari groaned audibly, slumping in the archway. 

Within a matter of minutes, the three of them were seated in front of the giant glowing screen, each with bold streaks of colour on their faces. An array of food sat in front of them, and yet Gaara couldn’t find it within himself to have an appetite. 

A cold glass was placed in his hand. 

“You look like you need it,” Kankuro said, taking a sip of his own beer. 

Gaara didn’t usually drink, for the obvious reason that drinking (especially in excess) could make him pass out, something he rather liked to avoid. He supposed this was as good a day as any. He was rested and unlikely to pass out at a drink or two. Gaara took a sip; it was a smooth beer, not too hoppy, perfectly acceptable. 

“Cheers to Rock Lee!” Kankuro said, and the three siblings touched glasses. _To Rock Lee_ , Gaara thought, taking a swig. 

His phone buzzed. Thinking it might be Lee, he whipped it out—only to see it was from Sai. He opened it to see a picture of the man. His black hair was a mess, his eyes were squinted with sleep and his mouth was slightly opened with disgust. The photo was captioned: _it’s too early_.

Gaara sent his own face back, a blank expression lit by the bright TV, showing the extent of Kankuro’s handiwork. 

The commentators were still talking about the fights to come for the evening. 

“Who are these guys?” Temari asked, carefully selecting miniature quiche. 

“The commentators,” Kankuro said, sucking BBQ sauce off his fingers. “The loud, punchable one is Naruto Uzumaki, he used to hold the belt before retiring. He’s probably the biggest name in the UFC. On his left is Sakura Haruno--she fought in the women's division--and on the end is Shikamaru Nara, former coach of the blond one.” 

“Poor guy,” Temari said. 

The screen showed a massive arena. The crowd sat at a raked angle around the octagon. Bursts of flashing twinkled in the audience. Suspended above were large screens for replays and scores. The lights concentrated right into the centre of the octagon, drawing the eye. The scale was enormous compared to _The Contender Series._ This was no amateur brawl. 

As terrified as Gaara was for Lee, this was a huge deal, and he couldn’t help but be somewhat excited. Getting this far must have been no easy feat. 

The prelim fights were starting. Gaara went to grab his beer, only to see it had been refilled by his brother. He couldn’t find it in his heart to scold him. Honestly, maybe the alcohol was helping a little. 

Each fight was about fifteen minutes and three fights total until the main card. 

Lee’s fight was the last one before the main card. They had to get through two prelim fights first. 

“These guys are so lame,” Kankuro said during the second fight. The two men were on the floor locked together. 

“I don’t know, I’m kind of enjoying this,” Temari said, her eyes fixed on the almost-naked bodies tumbling around. 

Just on time, Gaara’s phone buzzed. He opened the message from Sai, showing a blurry photo taken of Sai’s laptop where he was illegally watching the fight. 

_NO ONE TOLD ME UFC WAS SO GAY,_ Sai wrote.

Gaara huffed a little laugh before turning his attention back to the TV. The fight was ending, which meant that Lee was on next. 

“Now, this is a highly anticipated fight,” the blond announcer said. “What do you think, Shikamaru, think Rock Lee has what it takes?” 

“If he’s fast enough,” Shikamaru said.

“Kabuto is 7-0. He’s on a real streak,” Sakura added. 

“Well, let’s take a look at these guys.” 

They flashed some of the promo clips that they’d used to hype the match. Gaara had to admit that it seemed they were really pushing this fight. It felt more like the main card than just a prelim. 

The octagon went dark, and there were whistles and chants. The excitement of the crowd was tangible and slightly contagious. He and Kankuro both sat on the edge of the couch, leaning forward. 

Lights flashed green and then cut to a close-up of Lee walking out. He was in a black shirt, surrounded by four buff-looking men. A graphic popped up underneath him with his name and socials. A heavy rock beat played in the background. 

Lee’s face was iron. He looked nothing like the photo saved in Gaara’s phone. 

“Undefeated in his MMA career, coming into the UFC he already seems like a fan favourite. He’s the kind of guy who doesn't like to waste any time. He likes to start fast, try to knock you out. A very dangerous guy on his feet with serious power. He already has a highlight knockout from his last fight which was only just a handful of weeks ago…” Naruto continued to blabber on, and Lee took off his clothes. Well, everything but a pair of green and white shorts that were tight—very tight. The men checked him for any concealed weapons and applied vaseline to his face. Gai was already waiting outside the ring. 

Lee stood still in the ring, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. 

Kabuto got a similar entrance, with the commentators focusing on his experience and weight advantage. His track was noisy cock rock. Gaara wished he could punch him himself. He took off his embroidered silk robe, and the crowd roared. The larger man started to pace around the ring. His silver hair was in a tight braid and his shorts were purple and silver. Somehow, Kabuto looked much heavier than Lee, not that Lee was small, but somehow Kabuto had managed to pack on those pounds. His coach was a gaunt man who looked even more terrible than Kabuto did. 

The lights turned up for fighting conditions. 

“Have a clean fight, obey my commands at all times, if you want to touch gloves do so now” the referee told them, and they tapped gloves. Kabuto leaned in to whisper something to Lee that wasn’t picked up by the microphones. 

The crowd silenced to barely a murmur.

The bell rang and the two began to circle each other until Kabuto took a few steps forward, testing a few jabs that were easily dodged by Lee. This kind of exchange kept up for a minute. 

“Kabuto has the upper hand now. He’s very forward, controlling the centre of the ring, definitely bringing energy into this fight.” 

“Why isn’t he swinging back?” Gaara asked Kankuro. 

“Because he’s watching,” Kankuro said, eyes never leaving the screen. 

Lee was like liquid out there, dodging every swing with ease. Every movement was deliberate, no wasted energy. 

“He just can’t touch him,” Sakura said in awe. 

It was clear that Kabuto was getting annoyed. His swings started to get faster, throwing in a kick every so often only to meet empty air. 

Lee’s face was unreadable. 

Not one blow had been exchanged so far, and it was getting to Kabuto. 

There was some shouting from both corners. The coaches were yelling instructions to their fighters.

Kabuto stepped in close to Lee, winding back his uppercut. 

All of a sudden, Lee disappeared.

Gaara gasped. 

The angle changed to show that Lee had bent over backward, hands touching the ground. Like a spring, he launched forward, kicking Kabuto right under the chin. 

“RIGHT ON THE BUTTON!” Sakura exclaimed. 

The tattooed fighter staggered—rocked—before stumbling backwards, falling down onto his rear. Eyes completely unfocused. The ref waved his hands.

“IT’S A KNOCKOUT!! ANOTHER ONE GOES TO ROCK LEE. THIS IS INCREDIBLE.” Naruto added. 

Gaara could hear his heart in his ears. He didn’t even realize he was standing until Kankuro began to shake him with glee. 

“He did it!” Kankuro yelled. 

Temari clapped, a giant smile on her face. “Well done.” 

Gaara still couldn’t believe it. Lee had done it. He had crushed Kabuto’s 7-0 streak, in the first round no less. 

Lee didn’t have a chance to walk over, as medics were already surrounding Kabuto. Lee had barely broken a sweat. They replayed the moment of the kick and it was magic, somehow even more amazing than his last kick. They replayed it in slow-mo before cutting to Lee’s face to announce him as the winner. 

“What a strategy from Rock Lee, using Kabuto’s weight against him. Just amazing,” Shikamaru spoke. 

Lee smiled shyly to the clamour of the audience, looking relieved. Gai ran out to grab him, spinning the fighter around. 

The camera pushed itself in his face. A microphone was pointed at him. 

“How do you feel about your win, Rock Lee?” 

“Ready. I’m ready for the next fight,” he said, and the crowd roared, cheering on their new favourite. 

“Oh he’s so cool,” Kankuro said. 

The fight had lasted no more than a few minutes. The knot in Gaara’s stomach dissolved, his breath coming easier. Rock Lee was invincible. A champion. Gaara plopped back on the couch and downed the rest of his beer. Kankuro joined him, an arm on the back of the couch. 

Gaara was still reeling from the fight, adrenaline only starting to leave his body. 

_That was worth waking up for_ , Sai had texted him. 

The next fight was starting, but Gaara couldn’t bring himself to care. Happiness and relief flooded through him. 

Kankuro went out for a smoke, and Gaara followed him, stumbling only a little bit. The fresh air would feel good on his hot skin. 

Gaara and his brother hung out in silence for a few moments, enjoying the cool night air, until Kankuro opened his mouth. 

“I can’t believe he beat Kabuto so fast. It was incredible.” 

“He never even got hit,” Gaara added. 

“You know, sometimes I think Baki would have been incredible in the UFC,” Kankuro said, sighing. 

“Why do you say that?” The wind rolled through Gaara’s hair. 

“Don’t you remember? Some wack job was trying to take you hostage, and Baki did these sick tricks and disarmed him.” None of this information was even vaguely familiar. _He’s probably exaggerating_ , Gaara thought. 

He shook his head. “I was probably too young.”

“Sure,” Kankuro said, blowing out a huge puff of smoke. “Anyways it was just some dumb idea.” 

“Kankuro, do you think…” Gaara said, stopping himself. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, I don’t remember,” Gaara said. The alcohol was getting to him. 

Kankuro’s laugh was sharp. He took one more drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the railing. 

A moment later, Gaara felt his phone ring at his side. He pulled it out of his pocket, answering immediately.

“Lee,” Gaara said, locking eyes with Kankuro, who gave him a smirk and ruffled his hair before going back inside. _Message loud and clear._

“Gaara! Did you watch?” he asked. 

“Lee, you were amazing,” Gaara said earnestly. 

He heard a light laugh on the line. “I’m so relieved it’s over,” Lee said, “I just had to wait for the right opportunity to strike.” 

“I guess all that training paid off then.” 

“Speaking of that, actually. A big name just dropped from the card next month, and the president just called me to see if I could fill it!” 

“Oh wow. Isn’t that… soon?” Gaara wasn’t sure if his heart could handle another fight immediately. 

“It is, but if I can win this, I’ll be up for the belt.” 

Gaara wasn’t sure what to say. All this for a belt? 

“But here’s the good thing Gaara! I can get ringside tickets, and… Well… I was wondering…” There was a brief pause. “I was wondering if you wanted to come watch, in person. No pressure, of course, but I think it could be really fun…” 

Gaara’s heart thudded. He gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles hurt. His brain sluggishly started to connect together what Lee was asking. 

“Anyways, don’t worry about it,” Lee continued, “I can always ask someone els-” 

“No,” interrupted Gaara.

“No?” 

“I mean yes.” 

“I should ask someone else?” Gaara’s heart clenched at the tone of Lee’s voice.

“I wanna come, Lee," he said, more huskily than he'd intended.

“Oh.” 

Gaara could hear Lee’s breath. 

“That's great! Oh, that makes me really happy! I can't wait to meet you. I'm so glad you watched tonight."

“Of course,” Gaara said softly, the alcohol loosening his lips a little. _Thanks Kankuro._

“Okay, this is great, this is so great. I forgot to mention, but I have tickets for your siblings too if you wanted to invite them. I have to run now, but I’ll call you Tuesday?” 

“Mhm,” Gaara said, not wanting to reveal more of himself than he already had. 

“Later, Gaara.”

“Take care,” He hung up and closed his eyes. He tried to calm his racing heart. It was almost impossible to keep the smile off his face. Lee wanted to see him, wanted him ringside, and called _him_ after the match. He put his index knuckle to his lips. The cool air was doing little for his swirling mind. A path had appeared before Gaara, with Rock Lee waiting on the other side. Perhaps this could be reality, if he could keep his act together. 

_________

After Kankuro passed out, Gaara and Temari cleaned up, putting away the rest of the food, of which surprisingly little was left. He looked at his sister, who had face paint that looked like Kankuro’s tattoos but in green. 

“Temari?” Gaara asked. His sister was currently labelling the dates of food with a dry erase marker.

“Yeah?” she asked, speaking around the cap that was in her mouth. 

“Lee invited me to watch his next match. It’s at the end of April.” 

Temari’s eyes widened, and she capped the pen, walking closer to where Gaara was loading the dishwasher. 

“That’s great news,” she said. 

“It is, except that I can’t really drive there.” Gaara couldn’t drive anywhere actually; he was horrible behind the wheel. Forget about heavy machinery, Gaara probably shouldn’t have been operating anything. 

Temari tucked her hair behind her ear, handing him a glass. 

A smile grew on her face. 

“I have an idea.” 

Gaara nodded for her to continue. 

“You and I can go together. It’ll be like vacation. I can take time off work, which I’m way overdue, and the best part yet? We won’t invite Kankuro. That’ll get back at him for putting tattoos all over his face. He’s on a show right now too, he won’t even be able to come. It’s perfect. What do you think?” 

This is why Temari was the superior sibling. 

“It’s genius.” 

“We can even take the Mustang. We’ll rent an Airbnb. We can go for like a week. I have a friend in Las Vegas I’ve been dying to see.”

Gaara hadn’t taken a trip in ages. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone further than his immediate city. But he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, especially since it meant meeting Rock Lee. 

“Gaara, you’re smiling,” Temari said. 

Gaara could only shrug, not bothering to stop. He wasn’t sure what to say, or how much Temari assumed about his relationship with the professional fighter. Even though Lee had won the match, it felt like Gaara was the real winner today. 

“I…” The smile threatened to grow on his face. Gaara looked away, trying to control his expression. 

Truth be told, Gaara wasn’t sure what he was feeling. But he liked it. Yeah, he liked it a lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out this lovely art by [umauzumaki](http://umauzumaki.tumblr.com) [here](https://umauzumaki.tumblr.com/post/640036858456375296/sometimes-you-just-have-to-let-your-brother-paint) THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> AND my good pal summed up this chapter with some [art](https://i.ibb.co/6PktYkb/SPOILER-20210113-210158.jpg)


	3. Act Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a dooooozy of a chapter. For all those that have made it this far—buckle in. 
> 
> This chapter wouldn't be anything without my champion betas: a_gay_poster and umauzumaki. Their support and guidance are everything. They have totally made this chapter possible and I can't thank them enough! Thank you!!
> 
> To everyone that has reviewed. You are my hero! I'll say more on that post chapter! Enjoy!

Kankuro complained _loudly_ , making sure that his displeasure was everyone's burden to bear. He was not happy to be left behind, in fact, he vowed a pact of silence that lasted all of two hours—until dinner that is. However, he did take the news better than they expected after his initial fit, helping them plan their trip in a very un-Kankuro-like manner. 

Temari was over the moon, and spring was around the corner. The mood in the house had never been better. 

And Gaara? Gaara was in the middle of it, excitement growing with each passing day.

They had planned to leave about a week before the match, which was at the end of April, less than a month since Lee’s last match. They had booked a luxurious Airbnb, the weather was going to be perfect the entire time and Temari had a growing list of cafes she wanted to visit. 

Gaara only had one thing on his list to do in Las Vegas. 

There had been two phone calls with Lee in the time between his victory and when Gaara would leave for Vegas. 

The first call had been about their mutual excitement over Gaara coming to Las Vegas. Lee seemed quite intent on him meeting Gai. Gaara wasn’t so sure, but it was hard to deny Lee anything when he sounded, well, like _that_.

Gaara told him he could meet Temari if he wanted, and Lee immediately got extremely formal. It was endearing. 

The second call had been much shorter, with Lee going over the new routine Gai had prepared for him for the match. He spoke a bit quicker than usual—was he nervous? Only after the call did Gaara realize he still didn’t know the name of Lee’s opponent, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was intentional or not. 

But as usual, it had been Sai who alerted him to the news. He had sent him the latest poster, no comments attached. They had taken new promo photos of Lee, with his face backlit. His profile was facing another man with delicate features who had dark hair that was striking against his pale skin. Eyes even darker than Lee’s. Below was the text: THE WORLD IS WATCHING. ROCK VS. SASUKE, lightweight, date. 

The name was vaguely familiar. Gaara pulled up his statistics, losing colour with every new piece of information that was revealed. 

The guy was a genius apparently, mirroring his opponent’s style to unbalance them. This made him extremely unpredictable. He was brutal in the ring, too, holding absolutely nothing back, continuing to beat men down even after the bell rang. He had put at least three fighters out of commission. The videos painted an even nastier portrait of the man, showing blow after devastating blow. Even more worrisome was the fact he was undefeated so far. According to the fans, the only person who could have given him a run for his money was the blond man sitting on the commentary panel, retired. 

But it just kept getting more grim. Experts were claiming this was the worst matchup possible for Lee. That there would absolutely no way he was winning, don’t bother wasting your money on the betting pool.

This news was greatly unsettling. The only glimmer of hope Gaara had was that no one had laid a hand on him so far. Lee had speed and tricks, and for the moment it would have to be enough for Gaara. That was, until he could ask Lee himself what he had been thinking, accepting such a terrible match-up.

After getting ahold of his spiralling, he made sure to thank and then remind Sai to send him a price for his painting. 

_fine 2k,_ Sai relented at long last. 

Gaara quickly e-transferred three thousand, for tip and shipping. 

_GAARA? Have you lost it? Do you want to get in my pants? This is way too much,_ Sai wrote immediately. 

_make sure you sign it._ Gaara wrote back.

Before he knew it, time had slipped by and the day of departure had finally arrived. Gaara knew he had probably packed too much, but he hadn’t travelled in so long, he had searched online for a list of what to bring, and well, he’d managed to fill two suitcases. Temari, on the other hand, had managed to pack everything up perfectly into just one duffle bag. 

Kankuro helped them bring everything to Temari’s bright red Mustang ‘69. It was a sexy car, and Gaara wasn’t even the type to fawn over big metal death machines. It was one of the few things Temari had really treated herself to, and she loved it probably as much as she loved Kankuro or Gaara.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, Temari,” Kankuro whined, slamming the trunk. “I thought you were over these." He gestured to his face.

“You have a play to put on anyways,” Temari reminded him, walking over to the driver’s side. 

“Yeah, a play you both better come see when it shows.” He leaned into the open passenger window where Gaara was sitting. "That means you, too. Don't even think of making excuses."

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gaara said dryly. 

“Comb your hair before you see your boyfriend,” Kankuro said, messing up Gaara’s locks. 

"We're leaving now, Kankuro. Be a good boy, please," Temari said sweetly, firing up the engine. It roared like a lion. 

Kankuro gave her a middle finger as they reversed out of the parking lot, which then morphed into a wave. 

Despite everything, Gaara kinda wished Kankuro was joining them. 

It wasn’t long before they left the familiar side streets of his neighbourhood and were speeding up and out through the desert. 

“I thought it would be nice to take the scenic route,” Temari said loudly over the engine. 

Gaara nodded, already enjoying the views the desert was offering. Even though worry ate the bottom of his heart, the long stretches of road ahead of him that waved from the heat and the endless blue sky dotted with soft clouds made him feel just a little unstoppable. 

The giant mountains grew in size as they approached the city. His phone buzzed again, but this time it was Lee: _let me kw whn u arrive :)_

He and Temari were sitting in comfortable silence until she turned off the I95. 

“Now Gaara, it’s my duty to keep you from acting like a complete virgin in front of Rock Lee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” Gaara mumbled, wishing he could just… melt away. 

“Of course not. Virginity is a social construct, but what I’m trying to say is, I want you to be ready and not turn red at the mention of anal sex—" Temari took her eyes off the road to look at him. "—like you are now."

“Temari, please,” Gaara said, covering his eyes with one hand. 

“So I’ve prepared a little speech.”

“No,” Gaara said. 

“So that you’re ready for anything, and perhaps, this will help.” 

“It won’t.” 

“So when two men love each other very much,” Temari continued as if not hearing Gaara. “They’ll want to touch each other physically. I’ve read that two men can perform many sexual acts, example one, rimming…” 

Gaara sank low in his seat and groaned. 

By the time they pulled into where they were staying, Gaara was numb. He was sure he was broken; there was no way he was ever going to blush again. He was a changed man. 

“Sorry to do that to you Gaara, I just wanted to make sure you’re safe.” 

Gaara nodded stiffly. He wasn’t sure what this was payback for, but it had to be for something. Something terrible. 

After helping Temari bring in their packs, he sank into the couch and texted Lee: _arrived._

It usually took Lee a while to text back, so Gaara explored the Airbnb. The ceilings were at least twenty feet high, with huge windows that were round at the top. An updated 70’s design, with modern decor of blue and white. The whole place exuded freshness. There was even a large fountain in view from his bedroom window, only a couple of blocks away. 

There were four bedrooms, two bathrooms and a hot tub. It was excessive for two people for one week, but it felt nice to be in a different space. 

His phone buzzed: _gai gave me the eve off! b home around 4_

Gaara re-read the text over and over. It was happening. He was going to meet Lee. He’d be more nervous if he wasn’t so excited. He'd gotten to speak to Lee and he'd gotten to watch Lee, but never both at the same time.

 _ill bring food, ill need your address,_ Gaara texted back. 

He took a shower hot enough to make his skin red and long enough to make his fingers prune. He wiped the mirror with his towel and threw it over his shoulders. 

Staring at his face, he wondered what Lee would think of it. Would he think he was handsome? Would he even think of him at all like that? 

Gaara didn't think of himself as ugly, but looks were only a matter of preference. Would he be Lee’s preference?

He walked into the room he had claimed. On the bed, Temari had laid out a black high-neck long-sleeve, grey jeans that tapered at the bottom (loose fit--Kankuro had converted him), and an oversized brown plaid flannel. She even picked out white socks and had cleaned up his Nikes. It was a perfect outfit, seasonal, not over or under-dressed but still held true to what Gaara liked. If Temari was trying to make up for traumatizing him in the car it was working. 

He took one last look in the mirror before going downstairs to greet Temari. 

She nodded at his outfit. 

“Thanks,” he told her, but his eyes said: All’s forgiven. 

She waved him off. “Thank Kankuro, he’s the one that picked the clothes. Plus I’m sure you have enough on your mind.” 

Speaking of things on his mind, his phone buzzed. It was Lee with his address. He texted back that he would be there around five PM. 

He and Temari left to go shopping. Temari filled their cart with basics as Gaara pondered what he should make. 

“Do you think a curry would be a good idea?” he asked. 

“Clever idea.” She tossed him a mango. “Dessert?”

And with that, it was time to head over to Lee’s. He told Temari the address and she punched it on her phone. Despite the trauma of earlier, he was glad not to make this trip alone. He would have been a ball of nerves. 

As they drove, it was clear they were entering a less safe part of town. The pavement was bumpy, stores had for-rent signs up and steel bars covered the windows.

Eventually, they arrived at a mall, rundown six-unit building 

Temari pulled up to the nearest corner, just a bit out of sight of the apartments. 

“I’m going to wait here ‘til you get in. I’m seeing Anko tonight, but call me for any reason if you need. A lift, concern, anything. I know you can call an Uber, but just know my phone’s open.”

Gaara’s heart was going. _This is real._

He took a deep breath. “I think it’s going to be fine, but thanks, Temari.” 

She picked off a hair from his flannel and brushed him off (despite him not even needing it). She also passed him the grocery bag with all of his supplies. 

“Kill it out there.” Her brown eyes held a smile. 

He nodded and left the car, taking his time to walk up to the building. He took a few easy breaths, trying to avoid thinking about everything that could go wrong. He double-checked his phone to confirm the address and then walked down the steps to a basement unit. 

Wiping his hand on his jeans, he knocked with one hand. The other held the brown paper grocery bag.

The moments that stretched between his knocking, and the sound of the door turning felt like ages. In reality, it was probably under twenty seconds, but Gaara swore he was going to die before Lee could answer. 

The door finally opened to reveal Rock Lee. Despite there not being much of a height difference, he was taller, broader, and more real than expected. He wore light wash jeans rolled at the cuff and a green pullover rolled to his elbows, revealing… substantial forearms. It was like a forbidden sight Gaara couldn’t stop staring at. He’d had never seen him in casual clothes. Sports clothes? Yes. Almost naked? Yes. But casual? He looked good. _Really good._

Lee’s eyebrows scrunched together slightly. “Gaara?” he asked softly. His wonderfully dark eyes were confused. 

“Hello Lee,” Gaara said. 

Lee’s eyes widened a little and his mouth dropped a fraction. His eyes flicked down and then back up, colouring rising to his cheeks and ears. He was staring. 

After a few beats, Gaara lifted the bag of groceries. “I bought food.” 

This seemed to break Lee of his trance. He blinked and shook his head a little.

"Oh, great! Come on in," Lee said, opening the door to let Gaara walk in first. 

Lee closed the door quietly, and Gaara took off his shoes. 

“I know it’s not much. I spend most of my time at the dojo.” 

Half the studio is a gym, the other half was a bedroom-slash-living-slash-kitchen. Everything seemed like it might have been second-hand. The apartment was sparsely decorated, but it was welcoming, and smelt like lemon floor cleaner. 

“It’s cozy,” Gaara told him.

Lee looked at him before his eyes caught the paper bag in his arms. 

“Oh, let me take that!” he said, grabbing it out of Gaara’s hands. For a brief second, Lee leaned forward, and Gaara’s heart fluttered at the brief contact. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

He started to follow Lee to the kitchen. 

“Can I get you some water? How was the drive?” Lee asked. Conversational. Familiar. 

All of a sudden Gaara heard Temari’s voice in his head: _“now the difference between silicone and water-based lube is…”_

“Informative… too informative.” Gaara blinked a few times to get the memory out of his head. “And traumatizing.” 

“Bad driving?” Lee asked, pouring him some water from the tap. 

“No, my sister is a great driver.” 

Lee tilted his head in an unasked question. 

“Don’t ask,” Gaara said, accepting the water from Lee. 

A small smile worked its way on Lee’s face. 

“You know, this is much better.” 

“This?” Gaara asked. 

“Yeah, I’m… not great over the phone. It’s so nice to finally meet you face to face.” Lee’s eyes sparkled. There was a bit of shyness in his gaze. 

Gaara’s insides warmed. 

“I think so too,” Gaara said, sipping his water. It tasted different from his triple filter at home but not unpleasant. “How was training?” 

Lee snorted. “Terrible. I could barely focus, so Gai let me go early. I was just really excited to see you,” he confessed. 

_Excited. Excited to see me. Me_. Happiness shot from Gaara’s head to his toes. 

“Me too,” Gaara replied, somewhat lamely. He started unpacking the grocery bag. It was hard to stay focused. Lee's voice was even more intimate sounding in person. 

“Woah, that’s so much stuff!” Lee said, grabbing the ice cream from the counter and putting it in the freezer. “I never had this kind.” 

“I was planning on cooking if that’s okay?” Gaara said tentatively. 

“Okay? That would be wonderful! It’s been so long since I last had a home-cooked meal.” Even though Lee sounded happy, his statement made Gaara’s heart twist. 

“What are you making? Can I help?" Lee asked. 

“I hope you like curry,” Gaara responded. 

Lee’s brows shot up. “I love curry.” 

Gaara then put him to work cutting a giant onion. However, Lee cut it right down the middle, and within a few seconds, tears started forming in his eyes. 

“Was it something I said?” Gaara tried joking. Then a wave of onion hit him. 

“It burns so bad,” Lee cried, tears rolling down his face. He turned to look at Gaara, who was wiping at his own eyes with his sleeve. “Oh no, not you too! I’m so sorry.” 

A small smile found a way onto his face at Lee’s concern. 

“Do you have a bowl?” 

“Bowl?” Lee said, taking a second to process the word, before grabbing one from the cupboard. 

Gaara quickly slid all the onion into the bowl and ran cold water on it. A minute or so passed, but then the burning got less intense until it faded altogether. 

“That was magic! I wish I knew about that. Do you do a lot of cooking?” 

Gaara handed Lee a less hazardous carrot to cut.

“I do most of the cooking at home,” Gaara said, measuring out the rice. “Temari does some too. Baki used to do a lot too… I think.” 

“Baki?” 

“He was kind of like our caretaker when we were kids. My parents passed when I was young.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lee said. 

Gaara could see him swallow. 

“Mine did too,” he confessed. Gaara wanted to reach out to him, to let him know it was okay to be sad, but there was a wall around Lee, one Gaara couldn’t cross. 

Gaara pressed his lips together. “You have Gai, though.” 

Lee blinked slowly and then looked at Gaara. His small frown started to disappear. 

“Yes, he really did come into my life at the right time. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” 

Gaara washed the rice and put water into the pot, turning up the heat. 

“I have a feeling he may not like me,” Gaara mumbled. 

“Don’t be silly, Gai likes everyone.” 

_He hasn’t met me yet._

“Actually, I was hoping perhaps you could meet him tomorrow! Unfortunately, I have to train extra hard this week, but you’re welcome to come watch, if, well, if you would be interested. Although… I’m sure there are probably much more interesting things to do in Las Vegas now that I’m thinking about it…”

“I’d love to watch. Perhaps you could even show me how to fight.” 

Gaara had just finished putting the lid on the pot of rice when Lee swept up his hands in his. 

“Really? You’d let me teach you?” 

Lee's hands were really, _really_ warm. And strong. _They’re usually covered, aren’t they?_ It felt like a current was running between them. A closed circuit. 

Gaara had to open his mouth carefully or his heart was going to come right out. 

“Only if you have time,” he managed at last. 

"Gai printed out my schedule there." Lee let go of Gaara’s hands (regretfully) and pointed to a wall that had a sheet of paper taped up and the oldest computer Gaara had ever seen. The plastic was yellow and bulky. From another time.

He looked at Lee who nodded, encouraging him to check it out.

Gaara walked over to the wall and his eyes widened… 

The schedule was coloured block after block. Lee did more things in one day than Gaara could accomplish in a week. Following this would take extreme discipline. _No wonder he never calls or texts_ . _Does he even have time to use the restroom? Wait… bathroom breaks are scheduled._

Gaara couldn’t help but glance at today’s schedule. Agility training in the morning, flexibility at noon, stamina training after lunch, and then strength, speed, and lastly, cool down and reflection. Gaara wondered at what point today Lee had decided to call it a day. 

He had one more thing he wanted to take a look at: Tuesday evenings. They were empty except for a little scribble that read: “Call Gaara”.

A wave of affection washed over him. _The little bit of free time he has and he uses it to call me._

But despite that small block, there didn’t seem to be much time for anything else. That couldn’t be healthy to only train day in and day out, but who was Gaara to start dictating what was healthy. 

“Does Gai make your schedule?” Gaara asked. 

“Yeah! He’s really good at making them.”

 _Thought so…_

“It’s really intense,” Gaara said, looking back towards Lee. 

“It’s not usually this intense, but I don’t think I can be over-prepared for this fight.” 

“Are you worried?” 

Lee froze mid-chop. “I’m trying not to be,” he said, wearing an unconvincing smile on his face. 

_So that’s what he looks like when he sounds like that._

Gaara walked back over to the small kitchen, grabbing all the vegetables Lee had sliced up and sliding them into a pot. Sometimes, he found if he was silent Lee would continue talking. 

After a moment Lee spoke: “If I can beat him, I can get a clear chance at the belt.” 

Gaara bit his tongue. His personal feeling about the importance of a belt would most likely not go over very well. 

“Your opponent—Sasuke—seems a little unhinged,” Gaara said instead.

“He’s smart, _really_ smart.” 

Gaara started to add spices to the curry. 

“You’re smart.” 

A half-laugh came from Lee. “No, not like that. I’m only fast.” 

“Maybe that’s all you need.” 

“Then I’ll be the fastest.” There was determination in his eyes. Gaara believed Lee could do anything.

“I’ll put my money on it,” Gaara joked. “The food can sit by the way. It’ll be ready in thirty or forty minutes.” 

"Then—" Lee's head tilted a bit, and a smirk found a way onto his face. "—how about I show you how to throw a mean hook?" He smacked his fist into his hand.

_I’ll do anything if you keep looking at me like that._

Gaara took off his flannel, wrapping it around his waist. “Let’s go.” 

Lee had disappeared before reappearing a few seconds later with two rolls of wraps. 

“I don’t know how to put them on,” Gaara said. 

“I can help you put them on if you’d like.” 

Gaara responded by rolling out his sleeves and extending his arms uselessly. He looked up to Lee. _Now what?_

Lee unrolled a length of wrap and gently held Gaara’s wrist. The wraps smelt fresh and clean just like Lee. He described how he was putting the wrap on, but Gaara could only focus on the feeling of Lee’s hand expertly moving around his hand and wrist. His hands were callused, but his touch was so soft. He was wrapping Gaara as if he were delicate porcelain. 

Gaara flexed his wrapped hand when he was done. It was like a hug for his hand.

“This is comfy,” Gaara remarked. 

“It is, isn’t it? I wear mine so often it feels more weird when they’re off.” 

Gaara’s eyes were drawn to Lee’s forearms. They were strong-looking and capable. _I guess I look fragile in comparison._

Lee’s hands were also well-built; elegant with long fingers. 

“Do you want me to do your other hand?” Lee asked, breaking Gaara’s musings. 

Gaara nodded. He tried to focus on what was being said this time, but instead, he focused on the soft, instructive voice. 

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Lee said when he finished. His brows pinned together and his smile slightly pained. 

“ _No_ ,” Gaara said, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

“It’s okay, I know, I can get carried away when it comes to training.” 

“It’s not that at all…” Gaara bit his lip. “It’s just your voice… it... makes me very relaxed.” 

Lee sighed and a small smile graced his mouth. “I’m sorry I’m so unsure, it’s just… I don’t have many friends,” Lee confessed in turn. 

“Me neither,” Gaara told him. “Only Sai.” 

“Sai?”

“A story for another day, trust me.” 

Lee nodded but something didn’t leave his eyes. “Let's do a little shadowboxing in that case. We’ll start with a jab.” 

They positioned themselves to face the mirror and Lee's left hand shot out quick as a whip. A practiced motion that looked more like a machine. 

Gaara tried to copy his pose and then threw his fist out, his eyes darting to read Lee’s reaction. 

“Do you mind if I move you to correct your position?” Lee asked, hand on his hip. 

_Please._

“Go ahead.” 

Lee walked around Gaara. “Hmm, take a step back.” Gaara did. “Better.” 

If it weren’t for Temari embarrassing him this afternoon, he would have been red as a beet just from Lee’s attentive eyes looking him up and down. _I guess it was good for something…_

Lee stepped in close and put his hands on Gaara’s hips. “So when you jab, twist your hips to give more power to the punch.” He gave Gaara’s hips a little twist. It was purely professional but Gaara blushed anyway. _For the love of..._

It was hard not to feel cheated when Lee removed his hands. 

“Now, don’t wind up your jab. It just goes forward. More speed than strength." Lee then grabbed Gaara’s right fist, bringing it up to his face. “This hand stays here to protect your face, and then—" Lee grabbed his other fist. "—this one returns here too.”

Gaara caught Lee’s eyes. So close to his face now. It wouldn’t take much, he would only have to lean in for their lips to meet. His hands were being held in two capable ones. 

Lee’s eyes were warm with long lashes framing them. His lids slightly lowered and then widened.

All of a sudden Gaara’s hands were released, and Lee took a step back, clearing his throat a little. 

“So um, just like that,” Lee said. “You don’t want to be too tense, or too loose.” Lee showed him the jab again. 

Gaara shook out his fists before re-assuming the position. He breathed out. Ge drove his fist forward, using his hips as momentum, and then brought his hand back to his face.

“How was that?” Gaara asked, turning to look at Lee. 

Lee closed his open mouth. “That was perfect. Are you sure you haven't done this before?” 

Gaara shook his head.

“You’re a natural!” 

Pride flooded through Gaara. “What’s next?” he asked. 

Lee proceeded to show him a right-hand jab, a left-hand hook and a right-hand uppercut. He seemed thoroughly impressed with the speed that Gaara was learning at. 

Gaara was doing his best, but it was hard to stay focused. Watching Lee in person was truly a spectacle. The precision of his movements could only be achieved with hours and hours of training. 

The smell of spices started to waft through the air. 

“That smells so good,” Lee said. 

“It’s probably ready actually,” Gaara said. His muscles were starting to complain. 

He took off his wraps, putting them in a basket that Lee pointed to, and shrugged his flannel back on, his body cooling down. 

“Thanks for showing me. I want to do it again,” Gaara told Lee, as they walked to the kitchen. 

“Absolutely, you have a real knack for boxing.” 

_I could use a new hobby…_

Lee handed him a glass of water and then two plates. Gaara tried not to chug his water.

“How hungry are you?” Gaara asked after a very long sip. 

“Starving.” 

Gaara put the sticky rice (which came out perfectly) and the curry on the plate. 

Soon they were seated on the couch, food on the coffee table. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper table but thank you so much for making dinner.” 

“Thank me after you’ve tried it,” Gaara said, blowing on a spoonful before tasting it. It was good. Not his best, but acceptable. He could have gone a little heavier on the salt. They were really big potatoes. 

A loud sniff sounded next to him, and Gaara turned to look at Lee. 

Who was crying. _Oh no…_

Tears were falling fast from Lee’s eyes. 

“Is it bad?” Gaara asked tentatively. 

Lee shook his head and brought his arm up to catch his tears. 

“Good?”

Lee gave a little gasp and started fanning his tongue, his face turning red. “Spicy,” he finally got out. _Oh shit._

Gaara went to the kitchen to pour some milk and then handed it to Lee, who took a few sips until he finally returned to his normal colour. 

“I’m sorry. I made it too spicy. I just really like spice and I wasn’t thinking…” _Great job._

“No! It’s perfect the way it is,” Lee said, shoving another spoonful into his mouth, slowly turning red again. 

Gaara put his index knuckle to his mouth, trying to contain his smile. 

“The rice will help cool you down too,” Gaara told him, resuming his own meal. 

Lee rolled down one sleeve, dabbing at his eyes every so often. But he ate it all--quickly, too--and then went up to get seconds. 

Nearly an hour later, they'd finished their meal--with only a short intermission for Lee to chug milk at the spice and declare the curry the best thing he'd ever eaten--and Gaara offered to grab dessert.

“I can send you the recipe for dinner if you’d like,” Gaara offered. 

“That would be great,” Lee said with a smile. 

Gaara pulled out his phone and sent Lee the link to the recipe (of course he had modified it greatly, but it would still work for Lee). A few seconds later two beeps were audible. 

“Oh!” Lee said and grabbed something off the table. 

Gaara squinted his eyes trying to make out the object in his hands. 

“I can’t open these. I’m sorry Gaara, is there another way to get it? Maybe you could print it out?” Lee said, revealing the object in his hand. 

It was a block… no, it was an ancient flip phone. 

_That explains… so much._

“What’s that look for? It’s not that old… Is it?” _Busted._

Gaara shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with it, but I see why you don’t like texting.” 

“It takes a very long time, and... it's hard to understand what people mean sometimes.” Lee scratched the back of his head. He then leaned on the armrest, head plopping on his hand. “Now you’re really going to think I’m uncool.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Well, I was going to suggest we watch a "movie... " Lee reluctantly pointed forward. "... on that."

Gaara failed to see what was wrong. Sure, the TV was a little small, and it was four-by-three and… 

“Is that a VHS player?” Gaara asked. 

“Yes,” Lee groaned, using his hand to cover his eyes. 

Gaara got off the couch to kneel by the TV. Beside it was a milk crate with a couple of VHSs inside. They were all martial arts movies, except for one or two _Fast and Furious_ films. Gaara pulled out the one that looked the most interesting. 

“Can we watch this?” Gaara asked. 

“ _Enter the Dragon_? Yeah, that’s one of my favourites,” Lee said, dropping his hand slightly. 

Gaara opened the cassette, recalling vague memories of how to work the machine. He powered on the TV, watching the static grow on the screen. He pushed the VHS in, enjoying the tactile feeling of it. The image of credits showed up on the screen after a second of very concerning noises. 

“And I forgot to rewind it,” Lee said. He seemed to be embarrassed. 

Gaara pressed stop and then hit rewind a few times. “Still got it,” he mumbled to himself. It stopped itself when it was done. 

Gaara turned around. Lee was still pink in the ears. 

“Hey,” Gaara called, and Lee looked at him. “I don’t think any of this stuff is lame.” 

“...You don’t?” 

“It’s vintage. I have a film camera somewhere too. These products were just built to last. Should I press play?” 

Lee nodded. “Here, let me grab the lights.” He turned the lamp on and the overhead light off.

Gaara sunk into the couch and felt Lee plop right next to him. 

It didn't take long for Gaara to become engaged in the movie. Every so often, he would sneak a peek at Lee's face: he was totally absorbed. During a very tense scene, his hand grabbed Gaara's leg. The moment he saw where he'd placed it, he pulled it off, quick as lightning.

"Oh, Gaara! I'm so sorry. I didn't--I wasn't--I ... I ..." His eyes went wide with panic.

Gaara grabbed his hand gently and placed it back on his thigh. “This is fine,” he said, his heart pumping. Warmth spread from where Lee’s hand was on his jeans. 

“Bu-but are you sure?” 

Gaara put his finger to Lee’s lips, not looking at him. “Shh, I’m trying to watch the movie.” 

He didn’t need to see Lee to know the man was bright red. 

Eventually, Lee settled down, and Gaara greatly enjoyed the warmth at his side. Too soon, the credits rolled. 

“Did you enjoy the movie?” Lee asked while stretching. 

Not having seen many martial arts movies, he had to admit he had enjoyed it. He told Lee to pick the next one, stretching as well. The couch may have been old, but it was cozy. Lee popped in the movie, rewinding this one as well. 

“Can I get you anything while I’m up?” Lee asked, and Gaara told him some water would be fine. 

Gaara checked his phone to see that Sai had texted him. 

_how’s it going slick??_

Gaara sent him a “👌”. 

Lee came back from the kitchen and pressed play on the TV, settling in next to him, arm on the back of the couch. 

Gaara leaned back. 

“Woah, your hair’s so soft,” Lee said in surprise, gently touching the locks. 

Gaara pressed his lips together to stop from making a noise. “Ahh.” _Oops._

Thankfully, this did not deter Lee from playing with his hair. In fact, he dug his fingers deeper in the strands, massaging his scalp gently with his strong hands. 

Gaara was going to melt. 

The movie was absolutely forgotten about. His focus was finely attuned to the lazy motions Lee was making on his head and sometimes his neck. Eyes closing, he relaxed. It didn't take him long until he was leaning against something soft, but not as soft as the couch. He hoped it was Lee's shoulder. 

It should have been more surprising to Gaara, but sleep washed over him, peaceful and kind. 

______ 

When Gaara opened his eyes it was morning. It was _morning_ … _Oh shit._

He sat up and looked around frantically and found that he was still in Lee’s apartment, semi-dark from being in a basement, kitchen and living room completely visible. But he was no longer on the couch, he was in the bed. Despite the fact that he was still fully clothed, the bed was oddly comfortable, even if it was only on a box spring. He was nestled in a spiral of blankets that smelt like Lee, warm and slightly musky. 

“Lee?” Gaara called out tentatively. He rubbed the sand out of his eyes. 

No answer. 

There was a folded up paper near his pillow, which Gaara opened, squinting his eyes to focus on the text. 

> Hello Gaara, 
> 
> Sorry to leave you. I tried to wake you but I couldn’t! I left the keys on the coffee table, so if you leave, lock up. I’ll be training all day here: 88 Lotus Way. Stop by if you’d like. 
> 
> Lee 
> 
> Ps. your phone keeps buzzing, 

He had drawn a little smiley face on the note. _What time was it?_

Gaara’s phone told him it was ten-twenty-eight AM (reasonable), and he had approximately seventeen text messages (unreasonable). After assuring Temari that no, he wasn’t dead, and Sai that he’d slept _at_ Lee’s not _with_ him, he picked up the note again. 

His penmanship was scrappy, a little hasty and slanted. Gaara's mouth twisted into a smile. He folded the note back up. _Well there’s only one real thing to do today._

Gaara was going to watch Lee train. And bring him lunch. Of course. 

Peeking at Lee’s schedule, he saw that his lunch break was at one PM.

But first? Shower.

He ordered an Uber and tried to fix the bed. It was a little strange to be in the apartment alone. The sun left two bright squares on the ground, leaving the rest of the room dark. It was the exact opposite to his large, sunny, windowed manor at home. It made his heart hurt a bit. 

His evening with Lee started to come back to him, how kind this place seemed in the evening, but how cold it seemed now. 

Lee was even more than he thought he’d be, even more than the kind voice over the phone,or the powerful fighter on TV. He was warmth and energy. Lee had a character and manner that was so soothing it eased Gaara’s every fear. 

He couldn’t recall feeling so strongly about a person. It consumed him and left him raw. 

Temari gave him an earful when got back to the Airbnb, but it was worth it. To make it up to her, he had agreed to tell her everything that happened _and_ to go out to dinner that night. She tugged on his cheek. 

“You look like you slept well, so tell me,” she said, releasing his cheek. 

Gaara did. 

“So you’re in love with him?” 

“I don’t know what love is.” 

“You’re lying to me, Gaara,” Temari said, grabbing his other cheek.

Gaara batted her hand away.

“What’s love anyway?” Gaara said slowly. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes. "Now, go shower. You smell, and if you don't do something about it, then no one will love you for real."

Gaara showered and picked out a beige quarter-zip sweater, black jeans and his Nikes. 

Temari helped him make a quick pesto to bring to Lee and told him: “Be back at five please. I’m going to make reservations.” 

And with that, Gaara was off in another Uber and off to the gym. 

It took Lee a few minutes, but he finally came to pick Gaara up from the front where he was waiting.

“Gaara! You came!” Lee said, jogging up to him. He was wearing track pants and a loose tank top, his wraps done up to the elbow. “Come, I train on the track outside usually.” He grabbed Gaara’s free hand and tugged him around the small gym. 

Gaara was disappointed when Lee let go. 

“Isn’t it so sunny today?” 

_Not quite as sunny as you are._

Gaara nodded instead. “It’s your lunchtime, right?” 

“It is.” 

They walked over to the bleachers where Lee already had some food laid out. The track wasn’t too big. The ground looked like clay or something and the bleachers were all slightly crooked. There were seagulls being nefarious nearby. 

Gaara pulled out two bowls from his bag and handed one to Lee, along with his keys. 

“For me?” he asked, taking the fork Gaara gave him. 

“I hope you like pesto.” 

Lee looked down at the bowl, a small smile gracing his face. “Thank you,” he said. The sun cast long shadows from his eyelashes onto his cheeks.

“Temari helped.” 

This broke Lee’s trance. “You’ll have to thank her for me… Am I correct to assume that was the reason for your phone trying to take flight?” 

“Partially, but I fixed it by agreeing to go to dinner. Sai was to blame as well.” 

“Oh right,” Lee said after swallowing a mouthful of noodles. 

“He lives in Japan and is an artist, but he really isn’t as cool as he sounds.” 

“Oh,” Lee said, leaning his head in his hand, “Japan is very far away.” There was a small smile on his face as he said this, his eyes on the clouds. 

“Actually, I have Sai to thank for showing me your podcast.” 

“Then I owe this man a great debt,” Lee said, his dark eyes meeting Gaara’s. 

The world could have fallen apart right there and Gaara wouldn’t have noticed. 

“This is really delicious by the way. Much better than what I packed,” Lee pulled out what looked like a slightly crushed PB&J sandwich. 

Gaara grabbed the saran-wrapped lunch and started inspecting. After a moment, he began to unwrap it. 

“Oh no, you don’t want to eat that Gaara,” Lee protested. 

Gaara ignored him and tore off a piece, bringing it to his mouth slowly. 

“Wai—” 

Gaara then threw the piece to the flock of seagulls nearby, who devoured it without shame. 

“Kidding,” Gaara said, breaking off half for Lee to throw. 

Lee’s face went up in a smile and he accepted the other half, tossing bits to the flying sea rats. 

When they were out of ammo, Gaara returned to his pesto. The gulls squawked, not nearly satisfied.

_Temari over-salted this._

There was silence. 

Gaara waited. He sensed Lee wanted to talk about something, and he was willing to pick at his pesto until he was ready.

“You know… it wasn’t always this way,” Lee said softly. 

Gaara put his fork down. 

“I had friends before… but I couldn’t keep them.” Lee’s voice broke a little. His profile was still, eyes downcast. In this moment, he looked delicate—fragile—as if one touch would shatter him. 

A vice grip squeezed at Gaara’s heart. Involuntarily, his hair stood up. Maybe this was why Lee was so fast, so you couldn’t see how breakable he was. 

Gaara was at a loss. Loneliness was more than just a word, it was a deep ache, a chasm of distance. 

“Tenten and Neji. I don’t think a day goes by where they don’t cross my mind,” Lee said, impossible to read. 

Gaara saw his fist tighten around the edge of the bleacher. 

“Although, I’m lucky to have Gai. I don’t know where I’d be without him.” There was a forced smile on Lee’s face. It looked uncomfortable. 

Gaara wished he had his notebook. He wished he could make sense of it, of Lee. 

“Actually, speaking of Gai, that’s him over there.” Lee pointed into the distance. 

Walking up to them was a tall man with very… short shorts. He looked incredibly fit and in some ways similar to Lee. 

He approached them. Gaara swallowed his dislike. 

"This must be the Gaara I've heard so much about!" boomed the man once he got near. He plopped himself right in between them, throwing an arm around Lee. A hand was thrust out in Gaara’s direction. 

“Maito Gai! Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He beamed. 

Gaara looked at the hand, putting his in tentatively. Gai firmly shook his hand. 

“Gaara,” he said, trying to keep the ice out of his voice. 

Gai smiled wide, looking over to his student. “Lee! We’re five minutes over lunch. Get your butt in gear. I want to see some laps!” 

“Right away!” Lee said, leaping to his feet. “Thanks for lunch! I’m so full of energy, I could run forever now." Lee started jogging off to the nearby track. “See you in a bit!” 

Gai’s cheerful demeanour dropped suddenly, and the presence beside him was heavy. The silence between them was loud. 

“So, Gaara, I see you’ve taken an interest in Lee.” 

Gaara tilted his head, his gaze trained on Lee. 

“I don’t know if that's a good idea,” Gai said.

The seed of dislike Gaara had for this man started to sprout. 

“Lee can do whatever he wants,” Gaara said, sounding almost bored, successfully covering the simmer of rage he was starting to feel. He was sprawled on the bleachers, leaning on the row behind him with an elbow propped and a knee up. 

“Lee,” Gai stressed, “is a very busy young man who can’t afford diversions right now.” 

“Too busy,” Gaara shot back, as monotone as possible. 

Gai was quiet for a moment, and Gaara could feel his stare. 

“And what have you ever done in your life?” Gai’s deep voice reverberated in the air. It cut right through Gaara.

_Nothing…_

“That’s none of your business.” Gaara dragged his eyes to Gai, who was absolutely unmoved by his glare. 

The man sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. 

When he opened them, he levelled a look at Gaara: “Lee has worked _hard_ , harder than anyone I know. I’m happy he has you, but you can’t be a distraction.” 

_All this for a belt…_

“You know,” Gai continued, “it’s probably for your own good if you just break things off now.” 

Vines of hatred grew inside of Gaara. He clenched his jaw to keep them inside. The idea of ditching Lee was so horrible and painful, he stopped considering it immediately. 

“Don’t ruin this for him,” the man said, getting up and stretching. “Oh to be youthful again!” And with that, the serious Gai faded back into that happy-go-lucky persona. 

“Best of luck, Gaara,” Gai said with a wink, giving him a thumbs up. He then jogged over to Lee. 

Gaara churned, and anger boiled. Lee was an adult and could make his own decisions. Gai was too strict, robbing Lee of what a normal life should be like. Who was he to threaten Gaara?

However, the fresh air eventually cooled his temper, and watching the dedication in which Lee trained was, well, quite inspiring. The truth was, Gai had nestled doubt within Gaara. The days counting down to the match could be counted on his fingers, and Sasuke? Well, the forums were rife with rumours, and it wasn’t looking good for Lee. 

But still, Gaara believed in him. He had to. 

After browsing the internet and watching Lee, he ordered an Uber to be home with some time to spare. He wasn’t sure what kind of restaurant Temari was planning for them to go to, but he wanted to be ready. 

He got up from the stands and had started to walk to the front when Lee trotted up to him. 

“Hey, are you heading out now?”

Gaara nodded.

“Well, thanks for stopping by. It was so nice.” 

Gaara’s eyes shifted to Gai, and then back to Lee. 

“You got this Lee. Keep training,” he moved to leave, but Lee had caught his arm.

“Wait, when am I going to see you again?” Lee’s eyes were hopeful.

“Tuesday evening?” _He has that time off anyway..._

Lee’s eyes brightened. 

“That’s right! That’s perfect! My place again?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

There was a pensive look on his face for a moment, but it passed. 

“Can’t wait! I’ll see you then.” He waved, going back to the track, and Gaara caught his Uber. 

When he got home, Temari was reading a book on the couch. It seemed like she was enjoying her vacation so far. 

After a few moments, she slipped in a bookmark. 

“Did you have a nice time?” she asked. 

“I did.” _Aside from Lee’s drill sergeant._

“I wanna meet him! Is he as serious as he looks?” 

Gaara thought about this. 

“Only sometimes, but he’s also very sweet and kind.” _And cool, and strong, and handsome…_

Gaara went to clean up the kitchen from the mess he and Temari created earlier. Just as he was drying the dishes, he heard a loud ripping noise that almost made him drop a glass. 

“What was that?” Temari called out from the living room. 

Gaara walked into the living room they heard the noise again. 

Temari rolled her eyes. “It’s some asshole on his motorcycle.” 

Gaara sighed, annoyance running through in his body. He turned around to return to the kitchen and they heard a knock on their door.

Both his and Temari’s eyes met each other at the same time. 

“You go,” he told Temari.

“No you go,” Temari told him. 

Gaara shot her a glare before going to the door. He opened the door to see no one other than his dear brother Kankuro. 

“Did’ya miss me?” he said with a giant smile. 

Gaara’s jaw opened slightly. “What are you doing here?” 

“It’s good to see you too,” Kankuro said cheerfully, pushing his way past Gaara, who leaned his head out to see a glossy and dangerous-looking motorcycle. 

“Did you ride that here?” Gaara asked, still looking at the fast looking vehicle. 

“Ride what?!” Temari shouted from inside. 

“What do you think?” Gaara asked her, closing the door. 

“Damn guys, this _is_ a nice place,” Kankuro said, kicking off his shoes. 

“I thought you had a show? Don’t tell me that was you on the motorcycle,” Temari asked. 

“Well, Deidara owes me a few favours, so he took over my spot. Oh and he lent me his motorcycle.” 

“When did you learn how to ride?” Gaara asked, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you know,” Kankuro pulled a big smile, “here and there.” 

Temari flopped back on the arm of the sofa, one hand rubbing her temples. “Why are you like this?” 

“Well, that was only a little dangerous.” Gaara gave him a look. 

“Come on! Was I supposed to stay home and miss all the action?” Kankuro said.

“Yes!” was Temari’s exasperated reply. 

“Not a chance,” Kankuro's eyes slid to Gaara’s and despite everything, Gaara was happy to see his brother.

“So… Did you get laid yet?” 

Nevermind. 

Gaara rolled his eyes and pushed past him. 

Temari was calling someone on her phone, and Gaara gestured with his head: _Who?_

“Hi, I’d like to change a reservation… “ 

Kankuro put a triumphant hand on his hip, the raise of his brows saying: _Tah dah!_

That evening they went to a small restaurant that had outside seating. Lovely brick walls, hanging plants and tiny warm fairy lights. It was the kind of place Gaara wouldn’t have thought Temari would have liked but he was still being surprised by his siblings (evidently). 

The restaurant had a table d’hote and they sampled everything from charcuterie plates to salmon tartare. 

Gaara couldn’t remember having a better time. Even with Kankuro complaining he was still hungry and Temari leaving to fix her makeup every few minutes. Under the warm twinkling lights, holding his phone that contained a text message from Lee: _cant w8 to c u,_ he felt happy.

The next day the three of them kept busy by visiting the aquarium. Kankuro was in love with the sharks. 

“You gotta respect something with so many teeth,” he told Gaara. 

“Get your hands off the glass,” Temari scolded, muttering under her breath. 

Gaara took various pictures, sending them to Sai. He wished he could send them to Lee, but there was no way that little T4 machine received photos. 

Lee was really stuck in another time. Not that Gaata minded, it was just different than what he was used to having.

The day passed by quickly with Kankuro asking Gaara to take photos of him in ridiculous poses. 

That evening, after sending some choice shots to Sai, a message from Lee popped up: _im free after 7 2morrow sry its so l8_

_no worries, ill be there._

_:)!!!,_ Lee responded. 

Gaara had to admit, it was strange to use Lee’s podcast to fall asleep to after meeting the man, yet the effect was still present. He had fallen asleep beside the man with no nightmares. It seemed that Lee had a quality that could fight off anything that came his way. It had been almost two months since Gaara started to sleep just like everyone else. Worry ate at him still, that he was taking this for granted, but the thrill he got from waking up rested and ready was too good to question. 

And like clockwork, Gaara was fast asleep. It was enough for now. 

_____ 

The next day they took it fairly easy, although Gaara would have been grateful for a more distracting day. The only adventure he went on was a quick hop on the motorcycle with Kankuro to the liquor store, just past the giant fountain. It was only a short trip, otherwise, Temari would have vetoed it, but it was fun, even though he was sure Kankuro had no clue what he was doing. It was a miracle he made it here alive. 

But Gaara was glad he had because he was hopeless.

“Really?” Kankuro said as Gaara showed him what he planned to wear to Lee’s.

“What?” Gaara asked, looking down. 

“You look like an old professor. Can I help you please?”

“Fine,” Gaara said, rolling his eyes. 

Kankuro put down his phone and stalked into Gaara’s room, then into his room, and then into Temari’s room. Finally, he threw all the garments onto Gaara’s bed. 

“You’re so lucky to have me as a brother you know.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Gaara muttered as Kankuro left his room. 

The only thing that were his was the oversized high-waisted light wash jeans. It seemed Kankuro had pulled a men’s small black shirt from Temari that clung to him, and gave him his own black zip-up hoodie, which Gaara was swimming in. 

_I hate when Kankuro is right,_ Gaara thought, looking in the mirror. Much more comfortable than what he had picked out before.

When he came out, Kankuro proceeded to fuss over his hair. 

“That’s better,” he said, stepping away to admire his handiwork. 

“My Uber’s going to be here soon.” 

“Wait!” Kankuro told him, rushing into his room and back, only to drop a rolled-up poster into his hands. When he unrolled it, it was Lee’s poster for the upcoming fight. _Oh no._

“Can you get Lee to sign this?” Kankuro looked slightly embarrassed. 

Gaara sighed. _I can’t say no to that face._

“Yeah, no problem,” Gaara conceded. 

“Gaara, I think your ride’s here,” Temari called from the living room. 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, call me if you need anything,” Temari told him as he slipped on his shoes.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up on the motorcycle,” Kankuro added.

“No, he won’t,” Temari glared at Kankuro, “and remember, STIs can be transmitted orally so make sure you use a cond—” 

“ _Okay._ That’s enough, bye now,” Gaara said, rushing out the door with only the key, his phone and the poster. 

Gaara arrived a little late due to traffic but hopped out no later than seven-thirty PM. When he knocked, it was met with silence, and a few moments later there were thumps, heavy footsteps, and then a: “Coming!” from the other side of the door

Gaara was probably waiting for about five minutes when Lee finally opened the door. 

“Gaara, I’m so sorry for making you wait. I um—well I...” 

“It’s good to see you,” Gaara said smoothly to Lee’s stumbling words. 

Lee’s hair was still damp looking as if he had just taken a shower and a clean smell came from him. He was wearing a dark grey pullover over green sweatpants. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lee said, red tinging his cheeks. “I got water on my clothes, and I have to do laundry and then I was missing a sock. And I, well I’m sorry, that’s all.” 

“I think you look just fine,” Gaara said, admiring the man in front of him. 

“You do?” Lee’s brows knit together. 

“Yes.” Looking down he saw Lee’s mismatched socks. “But if you want to do laundry, I can help.” 

“Oh no! Really it’s fine. I can probably do some, um, when I—” 

“I want to help.” 

“You… you do?!” 

Gaara just looked at Lee this time.

“Alright! Alright! Come on in—No, no, leave your shoes on. I'll only be a second." 

Everything looked the same as last time, except the coffee table seemed a bit askew… 

Lee was bustling around the apartment, gathering his wraps, towels and clothes into a cloth bag. 

Lee put the bag down to put on his shoes, and Gaara picked the bag up. 

“Hey! No you don’t! Let me do the heavy lifting,” Lee said after tying his laces. He leaned over, taking the burden off Garra. 

“I don’t mind,” Gaara said, his heart fluttering at the close proximity. Lee smelled warm and fresh. 

“You’re my guest. It would be rude of me.” Lee gave a little smile that made Gaara’s ears go hot. 

“By the way…” Gaara swallowed. “Would you be willing to sign this for Kankuro?” 

Lee looked confused until he took the poster from Gaara, unravelling it. 

“Oh, sure! This is actually my first time signing anything,” he said sheepishly. 

“Really? But your fanbase is so large.” 

“Gai tells me the same thing, but I don’t really go online. I only check my email every so often.” 

Gaara nodded. He lived so much in the digital world while Lee lived in the physical one. 

Lee left to get a marker and signed the poster quickly on the wall, rolling it back up and handing it to Gaara, who put it down on a table near the entrance. 

“Thanks, Kankuro will be happy I think.” 

“I’d like to meet him,” Lee said, picking up the laundry again. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Gaara told him. 

Lee locked up, and Gaara was reminded it had taken him a whole five minutes to lock up, flipping keys, trying different ones and then checking at least three times that yes, it was really locked. 

He had been surprised when Lee had left him his keys. Perhaps he was that trusting, or perhaps he had nothing to fear. 

The little rundown laundromat was around the corner under a flickering streetlamp. The sounds of dogs barking and crickets chirping filled the night air. 

Inside, the lights were old yellow fluorescents, and there were a few tables and chairs. 

“Can I help now?” Gaara asked. 

Lee put the bag on the table. 

“Hmm... “ Lee put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a crushed five-dollar bill and some quarters. “You can get us drinks at the corner store next door.” 

It seemed like Lee would not accept his help. 

“Fine.” Gaara accepted the money, although he wasn’t going to use it. He ended up buying a sports drink for Lee and an energy drink for himself. There would be no unexpected falling asleep on his watch. 

Gaara sat next to Lee at the end of the table and handed him his drink and money.

When Lee made a face at the money, Gaara told him it would be rude as a guest not to bring something. 

Lee unscrewed the cap, peeling the seal off his drink. 

“You know… I wanted to apologize. I’m really sorry I’m so tied up with training,” Lee spoke like it was hard to get words out. Like he’d been thinking hard about this. 

“It’s okay,” Gaara said, an image of Sasuke appearing in his head.

“No, no it is not. I really want to spend more time with you. I’ve… been having such a nice time with you.” His hands picked at the label. 

“Lee, you have an important match coming up. Maybe you’ll have more time between matches after.” 

This seemed to cheer him up a little, and he met Gaara’s eyes. 

“Thank you for being so patient,” Lee told him. His dark brown eyes were steady, genuine. 

Gaara popped open his energy drink. “I feel like I’m the one who should be telling you that. After all, I’m always falling asleep on you.” 

"Oh, that! Yes, it is a little unusual," Lee said, looking up.

Something cracked between Gaara’s ribs. _So he does think that…_

“I mean, it seems you are very trusting,” Lee continued. 

_Oh._ A sigh of relief escaped from Gaara. 

“I’m not,” he confessed. 

Lee’s brows shot up. “You’re not?” 

“Do you think I fall asleep on everyone?” 

“Uhh, well, I’m not sure.” 

Gaara shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“It’s you, Lee.” 

Lee’s mouth opened a fraction. 

“The truth is, it's only because of you I can sleep at all. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m relaxed around you… sleep becomes easy…” 

Lee’s eyes drifted down to the energy drink, they then darted around his dark circles. Observing. His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. 

“I told you I was an insomniac, so I have trouble sleeping.” 

Lee put his hand near his eyes, “I thought… I assumed… you could sleep to anything… or maybe... to calm your mind or something… Since you were always falling asleep, that's just what I believed...” Lee rambled.

Gaara couldn’t help it, a laugh escaped from him. “No! You’ve been helping me. I wasn’t lying when I said it was your voice.” 

“This whole time I thought that... ” Lee shook his head and cracked a small smile. 

“Sleep was impossible before. My siblings never got any rest due, and I would often wander into dangerous situations.” 

Lee paled. “Aren’t you scared to sleep?” he asked quietly, despite there being no one else in the laundromat. 

“Not when you’re around, for some reason,” Gaara whispered back.

Lee looked taken aback, his eyes searching Gaara’s before a determined look took over his expression. 

“If I can protect you in any way, I am glad.” 

“I don’t think I have much to worry about,” Gaara said.

“I... “ Lee started, and closed his mouth, swallowing. 

_What?_ Gaara wanted to ask, but the sound of the washing machine buzzed and Lee jumped up.

“Time to switch! No, you can’t help. It’ll only be a second.” 

Gaara signed and cupped his head in his hand. 

“Do you always stay for the whole duration?” Gaara asked when Lee came back. 

“Yes! I’ve had my laundry stolen a few times. I made most of my calls to you here.” 

Gaara tried to imagine Lee sitting at the table, walking him through meditation over his flip phone. A lot more of Lee’s behaviour made sense after meeting, but the same could be said about himself. 

“That’s awful.” 

Lee shrugged. “It’s just clothing. Perhaps they needed it.” 

Lee _would_ spin getting robbed in a positive manner. 

“But it is hard to replace clothes, so now I just wait.” He finished the rest of his drink. “How are you liking Vegas so far?” 

Gaara proceeded to tell (and show) Lee all about his adventures so far. 

“Is that Kankuro?” Lee asked. The photo was of Kankuro riding a shark statue. 

“Oh yeah… do you have that extra ticket to the fight still?” 

“I do.” 

“Great, because... '' Gaara told Lee of the antics of Kankuro. 

“He seems like an interesting person,” Lee remarked. 

“You mean pain in the ass,” Gaara corrected, and then swiped to show him a photo of a stingray. 

Before Gaara knew it, Lee’s laundry was finished. They walked back to his apartment. Gaara offered to help fold, but Lee said he didn’t fold any of his clothes, ever. Gaara suggested they try boxing then, which Lee looked delighted at. 

When Gaara removed Kankuro's enormous sweater, Lee stared at him. 

“Everything good?” Gaara asked. 

“Oh, yes! Uhm, I was thinking about what size… boxing gloves I should get you.” 

_Thank you, Kankuro._

Gaara tried hard to remember how to wrap his hands, but Lee just did it for him after watching him struggle, not that Gaara was going to complain. 

Gaara found himself enjoying the sport, even if it did leave him breathless. He had the stamina of a smoker, but it felt good to punch the bag. Every so often Lee would correct his stance or show him a new combo, but mostly? It felt good to impress Lee. 

Afterwards, he sent a photo of the gloves to Sai. 

“You like to take photos, don’t you?” Lee asked, removing his own hand wraps. 

Gaara had never really thought about it before. 

“I guess so,” he then pointed his phone at Lee. “Smile.”

Lee flashed the exact same smile that already existed in Gaara's phone. 

_Why won’t you smile for real?_

“Gaara! I got you some water. You must be thirsty after that!” 

_An understatement._

After taking a few minutes to cool off, Lee suggested a movie, and Gaara went to go pick one. After looking through the covers, he picked the second _Fast and Furious_. 

“Did you watch the first one?” Lee asked politely. 

Gaara shook his head no. 

“Are you sure you want to watch that one?” 

“Positive.” 

“Okay then.” Lee shrugged. 

Gaara rewound the tape and Lee adjusted the lights. Once Gaara pressed play, he didn’t hesitate to sit right up against Lee’s side, cross-legged. The apartment ran cool and his sweater lay forgotten about. Lee put his hand on Gaara’s thigh, confidently. _Good._

As the movie rolled on, Gaara tried to pay attention, he really did, but Lee’s magic was stronger than the plight of Brain and Roman. He fought his eyelids; he wasn’t done hanging out with Lee. But he didn’t have a choice as his eyes closed involuntarily, the soft rhythm of Lee’s thumb on his thigh beckoning him to sleep. 

When Gaara woke up, he was in Lee’s bed again. _Shit. I’m so useless…_ he thought, burying himself deeper into the blankets. 

He looked around the pillow for a note, but there was none. His brows squeezed together. 

“Lee?” he called out to the dark apartment. 

“Hgnghn?” a mop of black hair moved on the couch. Outside it was shining quite bright. It couldn’t have been very early. Gaara forced himself out of the warm nest and padded over to the couch where Lee had apparently slept. He felt bad for stealing his bed. Lee should have left him on the couch… or joined him on the bed. 

Some light fell upon Lee’s face, and dust motes hung in the air. It took everything in Gaara to shake the man gently by the shoulder. 

“Lee?” 

“Mhm, Gaara?” Lee looked like he didn’t know what year it was. It was adorable. He seemed extra soft. Gaara resisted the urge to put a hand on his face to see if it felt as soft as it looked. 

“Lee, I think you have practice?” 

Lee sat up so fast he narrowly missed hitting Gaara’s head. Well, he was wide awake now. 

He grabbed the flip phone off the table. 

“Oh no! I’m going to be late!” Lee looked panicked, his eyes darted around. 

“What time are you supposed to be at the gym?”

“In thirty minutes, but I can’t get ready and bike there that fast.” He dropped his head into his hands.

“Take it easy, Lee. I’ll order an Uber.” 

“Like the taxi service? I can’t afford that.” Lee looked visibly stressed. 

Gaara had a choice here: he could press the Uber, but given how Lee had reacted to Gaara buying drinks, he probably wouldn’t like that. 

He grabbed his phone, making a call. 

“Hey Gaara, everything's okay?” The slightly groggy voice of his sister came through the line. 

"Morning, Tem." He knew she loved it when he called her that. "Can you get here in twenty minutes?"

“Yeah I think so, is everything good?” 

“Quite. I’d like to help Lee out. We overslept and Lee’s running late.” 

“No problem,” his sister said over a yawn. “Be there soon.”

“Thanks.”

“You owe me a coffee.” 

“Yes your highness.” 

Temari hung up on him. Rightfully. 

“My sister’s going to pick us up.” 

“Gaara… I owe you—” 

“Nothing,” Gaara cut him off. “You owe me nothing.” 

“But—”

Gaara glared at him, and Lee swallowed. He owed Gaara nothing, the debt was stacked the other way and he needed Lee to understand that. “Now go get ready, you’re wasting time.” 

“Ri-right,” Lee said. He nodded and left for the bathroom. 

Gai was right. Lee would need every second he could manage to beat Sasuke, and Gaara was willing to wager if it hadn’t for him, Lee would have woken up on time. As much as he’d rather Lee not fight, the truth was that his fight was scheduled just four days from now. Lee didn’t talk much about the fight ahead, but it had to be in his mind. 

Gaara collected his items, grateful for Kankuro’s bulky sweater. He sat on the entryway stairs, alternating between watching Lee fly around the room getting ready and responding to messages he’d missed from Sai. 

Lee was putting on his shoes when Temari texted him she was outside. 

“Ready?” he asked Lee. 

“Gaara… thank you.” 

“It was nothing, Temari’s an early bird anyway,” Gaara waved him off. 

Lee caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“No really, thank you,” Lee said. 

It was too easy to get absorbed into Lee’s eyes. They were framed with long lashes, and so sincere. Only when Lee let go was Gaara able to think again. 

It took a few blinks. 

“We shouldn’t keep your sister waiting,” Lee said. 

Gaara nodded, getting up from his post. 

He probably should have warned Lee about Temari’s bright red Mustang. When they left Lee’s apartment, his brows shot up into his bangs.

“It’s her baby,” Gaara explained. 

“Wow,” was all Lee said. 

They both slid into the back, Lee still in awe. 

“Thanks, Temari,” Gaara said. 

She turned around and offered Lee a perfectly manicured hand. Temari was really a sight to behold. 

“You must be Lee! It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for inviting us to your fight on Saturday.” 

Lee shook her hand. “Gaara has said so many wonderful things about you.” 

“Has he?” Her eyes slid to Gaara, who was very busy looking at the smudges on the window. 

“Thank you for picking us up,” Lee said, the picture of perfect manners. 

“It’s no problem at all.” Temari started the car and got rolling. 

The gym wasn’t very far from Lee’s house—about a ten-minute drive—in which Lee asked about Temari and her job and Gaara took mental notes. 

They showed up with five minutes to spare. 

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate this,” Lee said.

“Can’t wait to see your match,” Temari told him. 

Lee looked at Gaara. “I’ll call you when I can.” 

Gaara nodded, not wanting to say goodbye. 

Lee gave him a little smile and left. 

Once he was in the gym, Gaara moved to the front seat. 

“So, where do I get myself one of those fighters?”

Gaara ignored this. 

“Coffee?” he asked instead. 

Temari signalled to pull out. 

“He seems very nice,” she said.

“He is. Thank you again by the way.” 

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure, it seems like Lee overslept.”

“That’s all? Really?” 

“Really.”

"Huh." Temari tapped her nails on the wheel. "How boring."

Gaara thought about Lee’s sleepy face and his ruffled hair. 

“It was anything but boring,” Gaara said, turning his head to watch the world go by.

___________________

The days leading up to the fight passed relatively quickly. Lee was able to call in short bursts, over lunch, sometimes in the evening. It was good to hear him regardless of the time. 

Lee had also invited Gaara to the weigh-in, an offer which Temari had declined and Kankuro had jumped on. The weigh-in was just the day before the fight.

Kankuro had been very happy to see that Gaara had succeeded in obtaining Lee’s signature, hailing him as the seductress of the UFC, a name which Gaara was not fond of and told Kankuro never to repeat again.

However, it was nice to have company as the crowd would be quite substantial. 

At the door, they were checked for weapons, and then they found their seats relatively close to the stage. Kankuro was dropping facts about the fighters and their coaches, but Gaara didn’t really care unless it involved Lee. 

The energy of the venue was quite high. It was hard not to feel like an imposter. It wasn’t until they called Lee’s name that he perked up. 

He had this silly hope that Lee wasn’t going to make weight and they’d call off the match, but luck wasn’t in his favour. It seemed Lee had actually gained two pounds since the last weigh-in. 

The crowd roared when the number was announced. Yes, Lee definitely had a fan base. But it was nothing compared to the cacophony of boos and cheers when Sasuke came out. He was a hundred and forty-eight pounds, and the crowd was deafening. 

There was something about Sasuke that was scary. If Lee had fire in his eyes, Sasuke had ice. The two of them met for the face-off. They stared at each other. Lee was more on edge than Gaara expected, but he wasn’t breaking eye contact, wasn’t backing down from Sasuke’s imposing form. 

Sasuke then took a step forward. Lee held his ground—not budging an inch—as Sasuke got right up in Lee’s face. Security tapped his arm and Sasuke shook it off, looking ready to fight Lee right then and there, who didn’t even bother to blink until security pulled the two apart. Cameras click furiously in the background. 

There was a bad feeling brewing in the pit of Gaara’s stomach. 

“I don’t like the look of that,” Kankuro whispered into his ear. 

Gaara agreed.

Their altercation was at the top of all the forums. People were excited about this fight, and Gaara was dreading it. 

Temari tried distracting him that evening by saying they should go in the jacuzzi. The only problem was that Kankuro hadn't brought his swimming trunks and insisted he'd only get in in his birthday suit. And there were just some things Gaara didn't need to know about his brother.

He texted Lee a few times, but he didn’t expect an answer.

Eventually, he slipped in his earbuds, relying on sleep to ease the knot in his stomach. 

When Gaara awoke it was still dark. Going to bed at eight PM made his body wake up earlier than usual. 

Once Gaara recalled what day it was he went to the bathroom to throw up, retching into the porcelain bowl. He showered right after, and by the time he walked out it was daytime. The dawn had already passed.

He did his best to pull himself together, enough to convince his siblings for most of the day, but it wasn’t long until they caught on. Refusing to eat or drink did not go unnoticed. They reassured him that there was no way Lee could lose. He'd never been knocked out. He'd never even been hit! But nothing could stop the tidal wave building inside him. He would just have to ride it. 

They dressed for the event. Temari in a black dress with a split up to her thigh, Kankuro in grey slacks and a black button-up and Gaara in a navy quarter button-up and beige slacks. Gaara texted Lee, but he did not text back.

“Can you stop looking like you’re in agony for a moment?” Kankuro asked Gaara. 

He tried to smile. 

“Oh no, stop. That’s so much worse.” 

Temari drove them to the venue. She had plans with Anko later to attend a burlesque show. Gaara wasn’t listening. 

As they were locking up the car in the parking lot, a motorcycle pulled up next to them. The person took off their helmet, revealing shaggy brown hair. Something about him was vaguely familiar. 

“Hey! Aren’t you the guy who got his ass kicked by Lee on The Contender?” Kankuro shouted out to the man, and Gaara had to physically resist putting his face in his hand. 

“Yeah, and what of it? Think you could do better, tubby?” the man called back, stepping off his motorcycle. He was shorter than Gaara expected. 

Kankuro ignored this. “So, are you here to watch the fight?” 

“I’m here for research. Guess who got their contract?” The man gave a toothy grin.

“No shit,” Kankuro said. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Temari asked Kankuro. 

“I’ll catch up in a sec,” he replied, waving her off. Temari rolled her eyes and started walking away. 

“Don’t get into any fights,” Gaara whispered to his brother, fishing out a ticket and slipping it into Kankuro’s hand. He then proceeded to follow his sister. 

“I swear, your brother will talk to anyone.” 

Gaara couldn’t deny this. 

It was an ordeal to get into the venue. They went through two different body scans and a handful of coat checks. They finally reached the seating area. When they showed the usher their tickets.

“Oh yes, follow me,” they said. 

They followed the usher lower and lower, past the blue barricade, bringing them directly to the ringside seats. 

Temari thanked the person and they took their seats. 

“Um, holy shit.” Her voice displayed the surprise she felt. 

“Holy shit.” His voice did not display the surprise he felt. 

The angle was extremely different than he’d expected. He was now looking up toward the fighters. Gaara's hands started to go clammy.

“Breathe.” 

He did.

“ _Slowly.”_

He closed his eyes for a minute. He couldn’t be like this. He had to believe Lee could do this. He checked his phone idly. Nothing.

Gaara and Temari watched the hustle and bustle of the crowd filling up the seats, of the cameramen preparing and testing their shots, standing right on the other side of the ring. Strict-looking men in suits started to fill up the seats around them. The excitement in the air was tangible. 

Not that Gaara could really share that feeling, but Kankuro could. When he finally plopped himself down on the other side of Gaara, he looked smug.

Temari leaned around Gaara. 

“Did you get his number?” 

Kankuro flashed his phone with a smile. 

“Unbelievable,” she said, crossing her legs. 

“You’re just jealous,” he said with a smirk. 

“And you’re just horny.” 

Kankuro squinted at Temari. “Maybe so.”

After a moment, he looked at Gaara. “You didn’t tell me we had ringside seats.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“Look, you can see the announcers just to the right of our side, and the judges are right beside them!"

The announcers were just sitting down and appeared engaged in conversation. 

The whole hall was full of chatter now. The sounds echoed and bounced around. It would be starting soon… 

Eventually, the lights grew dim, and the sounds of the crowd followed. Spotlights started to flash all over the venue. A chill went over Gaara’s body. He gripped the armrests.

After some announcements and hype from the people sitting only fifteen feet away, the prelim fights started. Gaara was wholly unprepared for how real the fights were. The barrier of the television screen had dissolved, and he was left with the actual reality of two people fighting in front of him. The sounds of skin hitting skin, of grunts of exertion and the groan of the cage when someone was slammed into it. 

Gaara tried to numb himself, tried to detach himself from what was happening in front of him, but it was impossible. Each fight felt excruciatingly long. 

It wasn’t until the first main card that he realized fear was beginning to take over. The fight was between two women, and he could hardly focus on them, knowing that Lee’s fight was next. He knew his condition was getting worse as his siblings kept looking over at him. 

“We can go now. We don’t have to watch the fight,” Temari whispered to him. 

But at this point he wasn’t sure what was worse: watching the fight, or not knowing what happened. Occasionally Gaara would check his phone for the bets, seeing what the odds were, and, well, they didn't look good for Lee. 

Hearing the announcer call Lee’s name brought his world back into focus, sharp, crystal-clear focus. In the distance, Lee was doing his walk-out, and everything else faded away. In the background, he could vaguely hear Shikamaru talking about the challenge Lee was about to face and the strengths he had already exhibited. Lee disrobed and entered the cage. Gai stood nearby, speaking quickly to his disciple. Lee looked so close, but at the same time so far away. He had a face of steel, but eyes Gaata recognized, eyes he knew. Rock Lee was finally one: gone was the illusion that the man who fought so fiercely was different from the man who called him so tenderly. They were the same person. And they were about to fight a monster. 

And just like that, the focus shifted to Sasuke. Gaara could barely see him until he entered the ring, but he had heard more than enough from the announcers. 

“That’s a champion right there, unbeatable in his former weight class. There’s just no one out there that can fight like him. He comes in fast, bold and with undeniable power. A mastermind at reading his opponent…” Naruto’s praise went on and on. 

Sasuke wore jet black shorts and a dangerous expression. His coach had a mask on and a head of dishevelled grey hair. He seemed to be gesturing to Gai. 

The two fighters met in the middle. The tension was thick. Gaara could only see the rage in Sasuke’s eye from his angle.

“Have a clean fight, you two. Touch gloves if you wish.” 

Neither fighter moved. 

The bell rang and they stepped back. 

Within seconds, Sasuke was all over Lee. Gaara’s eyes couldn’t keep up. 

The crowd gasped as Sasuke landed a kick square on Lee’s face. 

Gaara stood up. 

Lee recovered, dodging the incoming jabs, but Sasuke slipped one in between the ribs. 

Gaara cringed, grabbing his own ribs as if the punch had hit him instead. Temari pulled him back to his seat. 

“And Sasuke catches him with a right hook over the top!” 

He could feel something blocking him around his waist. He looked down to see Kankuro’s arm. 

“Why isn’t he dodging?” 

“I don’t think he can,” Kankuro said, wincing.

Horror started to fill Gaara, and when his eyes found Lee, he had just received an elbow to the head that forced him to take a step backwards. 

“You have to wonder what’s going through Lee’s mind right now,” Shikamaru said.

Sasuke was able to get in a few more painful-looking blows before the bell rang. 

“Gaara, seriously, we can go. You don’t have to watch this,” Kankuro told him. 

But Gaara shook his head. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

It wasn’t until the third round that Gaara realized this was more than just a losing battle. Sasuke had used Lee’s unsteadiness to knock him over, jumping on top of him to deliver brutal punch after punch. 

Kankuro held him back in his seat. 

“He’s hurting him. Why aren’t they stopping the fight?” 

Kankuro didn’t respond. 

“Kankuro?!” 

“I don’t know.” He was gritting his teeth. 

Blood was flying from Lee’s face. Gaara couldn’t breathe. He was going to drown in that blood. 

If it weren’t for Kankuro he would have gone up on that stage and stopped this. His breath grew ragged. 

“Lee...” 

The bell rang. The mat was stained red.

Temari had covered her eyes, and Kankuro’s face contorted. 

But Lee was still conscious; he was going to keep fighting. 

Gai seemed to be speaking intensely to Lee.

 _Please throw in the towel…_ but Lee kept shaking his head.

Despite Lee barely being able to stand, Sasuke pulled no punches, delivering a kick identical to the one that had made Lee infamous. The crowd went wild as Lee bounced off the floor. Sasuke was on him in a heartbeat, swinging over and over until Lee rolled away. Lee stood back up. His steely face dripped sweat and blood. His face was puffy. 

Lee tried to defend, but Sasuke landed a blow to his ribs that caused Lee to cough blood.

Kankuro wiped something from Gaara’s face. 

Lee’s body was covered in lacerations. For every one blow he dodged he received three. Gaara remembered what Lee had told him: “I’m not a genius, I’m only fast.” 

“Another beautiful right hook from Sasuke, as Lee stays on the defence. Sasuke might just be the best fighter in UFC.” 

_Not fast enough._

Sasuke dodged a punch from Lee while looking at the announcers. "You bet I am." He got Lee with an elbow while not even looking at him. "Now, let's go!"

The crowd lost their minds and the ref stood between them as the bell rang. 

“How can they let this continue?” Temari said in pain. 

“It’s the last round,” Kankuro said. 

_Unless Sasuke kills him first._

It seemed that Lee was impossible to knock out. There was no winning this, not when Lee’s eyes were so clouded over by pain. 

Gaara’s felt as broken as Lee looked. The ring was coated in Lee’s blood. A waking nightmare. 

The round started with a kick that sent Lee flying backwards into the cage, right where Gaara was sitting. 

Sasuke ran to him, laying a punch that snapped Lee’s head to the side.

It was a moment that would be branded into Gaara’s mind forever. Lee’s blood was thrown to his feet. 

“Lee!” he exclaimed. 

Lee’s swollen eye opened a fraction and met Gaara’s. There was a universe of pain. 

Lee moved, wrapping his arms around Sasuke, surprising his opponent. He spun them around and lowered his grip. 

Lee put his foot on the cage. 

He launched himself off the cage and they spun backwards, their heads aimed for the ground. They were suspended in the air for an eternity. 

They hit the ground and both of them were still. 

You could hear a pin drop. Even Naruto was silent. 

And then… Lee slowly, painfully stood back up. Sasuke remained on the ground. 

Gaara couldn’t tell the difference between the noise of the crowd and the blood rushing to his head. 

“AND WITH A LAST MINUTE KNOCKOUT LEE TAKES THE WIN.” 

As soon as he could, Gai jumped the fence to catch Lee, who passed out in his arms. Medics rushed the scene. After the announcers calmed down, the stage was cleared of everything but the stain of Lee’s blood. There was an intermission. 

Temari put a hand on Gaara's shoulder. Her hand was shaking, no… it was the other way around. It was Gaara who was shuddering violently. 

Temari stood up and grabbed the sleeve of a person that was passing in front of them. 

“Excuse me, do you know which hospital they take them to?” 

The man turned around and an unlit cigarette dangled in his mouth. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” 

It was one of the announcers, Shikamaru. 

“Yes, you can.” 

He took one look at Temari and sighed. “They usually take them to the hospital on Crescent… but I think he’s headed to the one on Bishop.”

She looked back at Gaara and Kankuro. “Alright, let’s go,” 

“Don’t I get a thank you?” Shikamaru asked. 

Temari looked at him and pursed her lips. She reached over and grabbed the cigarette dangling from his mouth. 

“Smoking’s bad. You’re welcome.” She turned her back to him. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Gaara didn’t have to be told twice as he walked past the stunned announcer. 

Lee had won, but at what cost? 

During the car ride to the hospital, his shivering intensified as ice grew outward from his heart until it covered his whole body. His mind kept replaying the fight over and over, ensuring that no matter what he did, _this_ wouldn’t be something he forgot. 

Before he knew it, they had arrived. Both of his siblings undid their seatbelts. 

“This… is something I’d rather do alone,” Gaara told them. 

“Are you sure?” Temari asked. 

Gaara nodded. 

“Go home, go see Anko. I’ll call an Uber later.” 

Temari gave a look to Kankuro that Gaara didn’t miss.

“Call _me_ if you need anything,” she said.

“Thank you,” he told them. His hands were frozen as he opened the car door. 

When he got to the front, the receptionist asked him what was the matter. 

“Nothing. I’m here to see Rock Lee.” 

She looked down at a list. “Oh yes, room four-oh-four." He proceeded to sign him a visitor's pass. 

“Thank you,” Gaara said, putting the sticker on his chest. 

Somehow, he managed to find the room through the labyrinth of the hospital, but as he approached there were three men in suits standing outside the door. Ignoring them, he tried to enter the room, only to be stopped by one of the men who put an arm out in front of him. They were probably security for the UFC. 

“Excuse me, I need to get in there,” Gaara told them, his tone clipped. 

“Authorized personnel only.” 

Gaara ignored this, grabbing the handle anyway. The man then put his hand on his belt. This motion moved his jacket to reveal a holster. 

Gaara didn’t have to guess what was in it. He stepped away from the door. 

_Who the fuck brings a gun to a hospital?_

Scissors beats paper. Paper beats rock. Gun beats Gaara. 

Despite what his heart wanted, _despite being so close_ , he knew when he had reached a dead end. 

His legs felt like lead; he still forced them to walk away. When he turned the corner his phone vibrated. 

His heart leapt when he saw it was Lee. 

“Lee, are you okay?” Gaara said, sliding onto a nearby bench. 

“I did it...” his voice sounded hoarse. 

“You almost got yourself killed.” 

“Somehow I’m still breathing.” 

“Yeah, you’re lucky.” 

“I am. When I saw you, it helped.” 

“Why didn’t you throw in the towel?” 

“I couldn’t.” 

Silence.

“Is Gai making you fight?” 

“No!” 

There was a gasp of pain, followed by more silence. 

“They’ve scheduled a title fight for next month. I did it.” 

“Lee that’s crazy. You must have a broken rib.” 

“Try five.” There was a humourless chuckle. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Thank you, Gaara.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Lee, I’m not following.” 

It was quiet.

“I think we should stop calling each other.” 

“What?” Gaara demanded. 

“I can’t… I… it’s… I’ve been selfish. Please take care of yourself.” 

“Wait—” 

“Goodbye, Gaara.” 

His phone beeped. 

Gaara wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at the now black screen. Long enough for his heart to thaw. Long enough for pain to replace the numbness. 

He walked through the lobby. He wasn’t bleeding but he hurt. He saw Gai sitting in the waiting lounge, his hands clasped over his face. He stepped closed to where he was sitting. 

“Are you happy now?” he asked the coach, who glared at him passively. 

“Are you?” he counted, meeting his eyes.

_What have you ever accomplished in your life?_

Gaara walked past him, and right out the door. 

_Nothing._

Night had fallen. 

He dialled a number. 

“Hey.” 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“Be there in thirty.” 

Gaara sat on the curb next to a crushed soda can and cigarette butts. He held himself to keep from falling into pieces. 

He held back his emotions in his throat. It was hard to swallow.

There was the sound of a motorcycle pulling up. It brought his focus back to the external. 

“Oof,” Kankuro said, looking at him as he got up. “This is bad.” 

Gaara accepted the extra helmet silently and hopped on behind his brother, latching on tightly. They sped off, loud and obnoxious, putting miles between them and the hospital quickly. 

The air was cool on Gaara’s skin as they flew on the freeway. Over bridges and under tunnels, until Kankuro slowed slightly in the residential areas. 

With Temari gone for the night, they pulled into the parking lot. Kankuro helped steer Gaara in. Gaara who now sat on the kitchen counter, holding himself again in fear that the cracks would start to show. 

Kankuro started pulling out six-pack after six-pack. He opened two beers, handing one to Gaara, who reluctantly let go of his body with one hand. 

“We don’t have to talk, we can just live,” Kankuro said. 

Gaara knocked his bottle against his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being a fledgling writer know that your feedback means everything! I want to know what you liked, what you didn't!  
> I also just like hearing from guys! I love hearing about your relationship with the characters, your love of UFC (or lack thereof for some). The stories you guys have! You could even just drop a line and tell me about your day. 
> 
> Fanfiction is a wonderful place for a writer to have an open dialogue with its readers. if you've been hesitating to leave a review, I'm saying welcome! 
> 
> So if you're comfortable (with time and energy ofc), I'd love to hear what you have to say!
> 
> Also, you Spanish speaking readers are rad ❤ te quiero
> 
> And a huge thank you to everyone who has read, kudos, and left a review so far! I'm lucky to have the coolest readers.


	4. Act Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I start off, here are some additional warnings for this chapter, spoilers ahead: Mentions/memories of suicide, self-harm, childhood trauma and blood.
> 
> Last one folks! No one told me writing fanfiction would be so much fun! I've had such a great time writing this fic, I'm sad to see it go (maybe epilogue??). Thank you to everyone for reading it, leaving kudos or reviews, you guys are beyond cool. 
> 
> I've made a playlist for this fic: [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5MrFdeBIXSax125FUy2gxL?si=voeu1RgdTeKzrqfVdi2AXg&nd=1), if any of you are interested! 
> 
> I can not thank a_gay_poster for their keen eyes, and endless patience. Honestly, this fic would barely be legible without them! And for umauzumaki for pointing out things I would have never noticed. Seriously, thank you.
> 
> Until next time!

**Act Four:**

Gaara was drinking and then… Gaara was dreaming. 

There was the sound of a man laughing, loud and oppressive. 

No. He wasn't dreaming. He was having a _nightmare_. 

Awareness of this fact didn’t change the dread that churned in his stomach. It didn’t make his eerie surroundings any friendlier.

Gaara was in his home, or rather, how his home used to look. Wallpaper that was long gone, clocks and painting that had disappeared over time. It was twisted and dark. No matter where Gaara looked, there was only a staircase to descend. His steps made no noise. 

There was the door at the end. It was familiar and ajar. It beckoned him to open it and as he reached for it, turning the handle, it disappeared into the distance. 

There was nowhere else to go. 

He followed a spot of white, which eventually led back to the door. Light bled through the crack, spilling into the hallway. Cutting a sharp edge of light into the dark.

He walked forward. 

The door moved. He followed a spot of white. 

He walked faster. The door was quicker. 

He ran and ran until he was out of breath. But the door kept moving back. It was laughing at him. 

“Please,” he begged, but no sound came out. 

He turned around, and the door multiplied. Creating copy after copy. Possibility after possibility. Future after future. He was surrounded. The doors pushed up against him and he couldn’t breathe. 

The doors spun around him until they stopped. He listened, turning to the door which contained the muffled laughter. It made him sick.

He laid a hand on it, and the rest of the doors crumbled into the darkness. The wood in front of him wept red tears. It stained his hand.

Gaara pushed the door open and the light faded. 

There was a man slumped on the floor by the wall. Darkness clung to the corners. He was laughing. He pointed a heavy silver object at Gaara. 

Air got stuck in his lungs. There was a click and a push. 

Gaara fell forward. His knee hurt. 

The man smiled. Wide. He looked at Gaara

“If it weren’t for you.” He pointed the gun under his own chin. The smile grew. 

BANG. 

There was blood. So much blood. He was going to drown in all that blood. 

It covered him. It filled the room. He couldn’t see.

He tried to scream, but he only inhaled blood. Breathing was impossible. He was going to drown. 

_Wake up._ He couldn’t.

He thrashed but his lungs were full.

He was going to die. 

_He was dying for real._

Black replaced red. 

_Not like this… please._

There was a shot to his chest. There was pain. 

And again. 

Again. 

Gaara coughed. His lungs emptied. 

He gasped, and air rushed in his lungs. He coughed out more liquid. More air came in. 

Gaara woke and remembered. 

His eyes shot open. There was cement underneath his body, and heavy, wet clothes clung to him.

His breath was unsteady and his chest felt like it was on fire. It was night, no, almost morning. He turned to see his brother’s eyes filling with tears. His face was a grimace. 

_Why is he wet? Why is h—_

Gaara was caught in a sudden vice grip. 

“Oh, thank god.” 

Gaara put a hand on Kankuro’s large back. Soothing him. 

He was released. They were on the rim of the giant fountain near their place. 

Gaara had sleep-walked. 

He had almost drowned. 

“You saved my life,” Gaara rasped.

“Nearly didn’t.” 

Gaara slumped over, head between his legs. He was exhausted. He was still tipsy. 

Laughter echoed through his head, and a flash of silver appeared behind his eyes.

“Kankuro, you have some explaining to do,” he told his brother. 

Kankuro feigned confusion. Gaara made the shape of a gun with his hand and placed it under his chin.

“Temari’s going to kill me.” Kankuro’s sigh was weary. 

Kankuro stood up, heaving Gaara along with him. One arm around his waist. The sun crested the horizon. 

“There’s someone who can explain this better,” Kankuro said.

“Temari?” 

“Baki.” 

___________________

Kankuro refused to make any calls until they had both showered and sobered up a bit more. 

Gaara had never felt so clear, despite the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed.

His nightmares had always left a lingering feeling of terror and dread. He would get flashes and feelings—never enough to fully understand—but this time he had woke up with the full picture. And he had questions. 

Sitting across from Kankuro, Gaara bore his gaze into him. _Stop procrastinating._

Kankuro held his stare until he couldn’t. 

“Okay! Okay! Fine,” his brother relented, bowing his head to furiously run his hands through his hair. 

After his fit, Kankuro opened his phone and put it near his ear. His eyes were closed. His whole face held tension. 

There was a voice on the other line. The words were lost to Kankuro’s thick skull. 

“No, no. I don’t need a lift. I’m good… No, uhm, this is about Gaara, actually,” Kankuro said. 

A few seconds later. 

“Yes. Well, no actually…Yeah… That’s right… Mhm… Okay.” He thrust the phone in Gaara’s direction. “It’s for you.” 

Gaara narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He put the phone on speaker mode. 

“Good morning, Baki.” 

“Good morning.” 

“I wanted to discuss with you a certain memory that I’ve recalled, it involved a man and a gun.” Gaara waited. 

“I believe I remember the one you are speaking about. First, I would like to apologize for the delay. This information should have been brought to your attention a long time ago, and certainly not over the phone… The memory you are speaking of comes from an incident twenty-one years ago.” 

Gaara put his hand under his chin so Kankuro wouldn’t see it shake. 

Baki continued. “As you know, your mother passed away giving birth to you. She had hired me as a caretaker and a… guard of sorts—your family dealt with many illegal operations—she was aware of her ill health and the temperament of your father. No precaution was spared with her. She had a good heart.” 

Silence. An unsteady breath. Gaara wanted to interrupt, to ask questions but he hesitated. 

“When she died, the stability of your father started to deteriorate, and he placed the blame for her death solely on you. He was excruciatingly cruel to you, but I kept you close to my side, although I had my hands full looking after you three. I don’t know how well you remember, but I was always around.” 

For as long as Gaara could remember, Baki had been his life, but as the years passed he had forgotten _why_. Details about old memories suddenly came into focus. The arms and hands who took care of him had an identity, a face and a name. He knew Baki was always there for them, but not to what extent. 

“One day, however, I sensed something was off. I rushed to his office… I… I saw him and the gun. I pushed you out of the way. He ended his life in front of you. He was a coward. He knew it was over the moment he aimed at you and _I saw_.”

Gaara wanted to shut off. Gaara wanted to go numb. To rewind time and go back to the way things were, before he was responsible for the death of _both_ his parents, before he had the burden of knowing. But this is what he had been waiting for, this is what he was missing. He forced himself to stay present. 

“After that, you started to exhibit extreme behaviours. I walked in on you harming yourself.”

“The cut on my forehead… I did that…”

“Yes, I tried to take you to therapy, but there was no progress. I quit my other jobs to take care of you full time, along with managing the responsibilities Temari was unable or too young to handle. The life insurance your mother had taken out assured you’d never have to worry about money again.” 

A memory bloomed in Gaara's mind of sitting on the counter while Baki cooked. Occasionally getting a spoonful to sample. 

If Gaara wasn’t already seated, the sheer weight of this memory would have knocked him off his feet. 

His hand reached the scar on his forehead. The one _he_ had placed. 

“Those times were a joy for me. You had become a stable, if not an odd, young child. However, as you got older, you begun to distance yourself from me. Your sleeping troubles started. Temari, Kankuro and I would take shifts to make sure you never sleep-walked anywhere too dangerous. Accidents happened, however.” 

Kankuro was now looking anywhere but at Gaara. 

“Until you started to avoid sleep entirely. I was concerned about your mental health, but Temari was worried the truth might be more damaging as it had seemed you had forgotten entirely about the incident, including myself… She had your best interests at heart.

“But as you know, you weren’t you. You were barely awake or present. I was beyond grateful when it seemed you had gotten over your fear of sleep.” 

Gaara's mind was catching up. He had blamed his fuzzy memory completely on his lack of sleep. When in reality, he had repressed those memories. Whole pieces of his childhood, gone. They were there. He had lived them.

Kankuro had a hand over his mouth. Brows together in thought. 

“Is there anything else?” Gaara asked.

“I believe that is most of it.” 

“Thank you for the truth. I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I need some time to process this,” Gaara finally said. Every word was exhausting.

“Of course. Call me anytime you need.” 

“Thank you.” Gaara hung up and immediately dialled Temari. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the red that was entering the corners of his vision.

It rang three times before she picked up. 

“Gaara, is everything okay?” She sounded slightly groggy. 

“Temari. Exactly when were you planning to tell me our father tried to kill me?”

“...” 

There was the sound of the door closing, and a low, muttered curse came through the phone. 

“Gaara…” Her voice wavered. “I’m… You don’t… I thought that…I was just trying…” 

There was a sob and shaky inhale. 

Gaara’s mind was completely coherent for once. Everything was in focus, and something became crystal clear to him: Temari wasn’t perfect. 

He had alway thought of Temari as flawless and true. But she had been carrying a weight. A burden. A secret. 

She wanted to be perfect. She wasn’t. 

But Gaara wasn’t either, and certainly neither was Kankuro. 

He waited until the sobs began to slow and his anger faded. 

“I want to go to therapy,” Gaara said. 

“You do?” Her voice was still shaky. 

“Yes. And I want you to go as well.” 

There was silence. 

“And Kankuro too,” Gaara added. 

“Hey! I’m the most normal,” Kankuro finally spoke up. 

Gaara cut eyes at him, covering the speaker. “Says the man with tattoos on his face.” 

Kankuro looked away again. 

Temari had yet to say anything. 

“Is everything really okay?” Gaara asked softly, or maybe his voice finally gave out on him. 

“No… No, it’s not. I’ll make some calls tomorrow. I’m so sorry.” 

“We’ll talk later,” Gaara said. 

“Okay... okay.” 

“Until later.” Gaara hung up. 

Kankuro looked at him. His lips were pressed together. His eyes were sad. 

Gaara handed the phone back to Kankuro.

“Thank you,” Gaara said. 

Kankuro's expression morphed into one of surprise.

That was another thing Gaara had realized. Kankuro was just doing his best. Somehow coping with the strangeness of his family. Somehow keeping a smile. Gaara felt grateful for his brother, along with a dozen other complicated emotions he was too tired to name. 

He got up and walked to Kankuro, and tugged on an errant curl that stuck out. 

“I’m going to go think now,” Gaara said.

Kankuro nodded. His eyes filled with tears. 

Gaara tried not to stumble on his way to his room. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t, and when he remembered why, a chasm of pain ripped through him. Tears pricked at his eyes. For his child self, a forgotten person. For Baki, and the guilt he felt for failing to remember him for all these years. For Temari, and the fractured lens through which he viewed her. For Kankuro, and how he took advantage of his easy smiles, which probably weren’t easy at all. 

And for Lee. For never understanding him in the first place. 

Tears rolled down his face until there were none left. 

_______

His siblings had left him alone until it was time to go back home. He was grateful for the distance. 

He had exchanged a few words with Temari, who looked as if she hadn’t slept either. 

She told him that she had scheduled appointments for them sometime this week and asked about Lee. Gaara had only shaken his head in response. 

The car ride home with Temari was silent aside from the radio. Gaara lay in the back, staring at the roof of the car.

Gaara was grateful when he finally got home. His brain was busy churning and processing. Everywhere he looked there was a memory he had forgotten. It was overwhelming. Between acute heartbreak, drowning (nearly dying really) and finding out his family had been keeping a massive secret from him, he was _not_ fine.

When he entered his room, Gaara found his journal had been left open on his bed. Flipping through the pages caused frustration to course through him. 

There was nothing! Nothing of use. Stupid doodles and idle thoughts. What was the point of sleeping, if his eyes were closed when he was awake? He’d failed to notice anything at all. Ignoring every sign that was thrown his way. Living in ignorance. 

He hurled the journal away and sank to the floor. 

Pain was a fresh wound he kept picking at. 

He buried his head in his arms. 

_I’ve been an idiot._

Gaara stayed on the floor, tormenting himself with images of Temari’s pained smile, Kankuro’s gentle prodding, and Baki’s affection. He had been so busy thinking about what Lee had provided him, that he didn’t bother seeing any way he could help Lee. 

He really had accomplished nothing. Gai had been right. Gai had seen right through him. 

Gaara held himself for who knew how long. There had been knocks on his door but Gaara couldn’t bother. Only when his phone buzzed did he finally move. 

He prepared himself for the pain of knowing it wasn’t Lee. He wanted so badly to apologize, for not seeing something he’d missed. For being so in his own head, for using him. 

It still hurt when he saw it was from Sai. 

It was a selfie of Sai covered in paint, looking pleased with himself. 

Gaara stared at the photo for a while. 

_i don’t think im okay,_ Gaara typed to Sai.

_Do you want help?_

_yea, i think so._

_Don’t worry, I’m here for you._

But Gaara didn’t know where to start. Instead, he showered and plopped on his bed. It was night time, but whatever agreement he and sleep had come to was over. He wasn’t ready to face Lee’s voice. He wasn’t ready to try sleeping either. 

The room started to lighten, and the familiar fuzzy feeling that came with a lack of sleep started to grow in Gaara’s brain. He knew he should get up to avoid worrying his siblings, but he couldn’t. There was too much damage, too much for him to fix. He didn’t know where to start. 

Sometime during the daylight hours his door opened. 

Gaara sat up, preparing to see Kankuro or Temari. But he was floored when he saw it was Sai. 

“Oh, how I missed you my darling!” Sai said, placing a covered canvas down. “I caught the first flight I could. I figured I would hand-deliver your painting! Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

Gaara couldn’t believe his eyes. It had been almost two years since he had last seen Sai face-to-face, and even then it had only been for a brief while.. It seemed he had gotten taller. 

“Sai…” His voice was hoarse. 

“You look like shit.” 

Gaara rubbed a hand over his face. “Thanks, you too.” 

“Jetlag. Move over,” Sai told him, and Gaara complied, letting Sai lie down next to him on the bed. 

“Did Temari or Kankuro let you in?” 

“It was Baki actually.” Sai moved to put his hands behind his head. “So, tell me…” 

Gaara did. Gaara talked until his throat went dry. 

He didn’t cry. It came out all rather factually. Sai was an attentive listener, not interrupting him once, just lying beside him. He occasionally grabbed Gaara’s hand. Gaara had almost forgotten how touchy Sai could be, but at the moment the contact felt nice. 

“We can fix this,” Sai said once Gaara had finished. 

“We can?” 

“I think so, at least. We can try.” 

“You keep saying we.”

“I packed for at least two weeks.” 

A small weary smile graced Gaara’s face. 

“And there’s enough room on this bed for two,” Sai said. 

His smile twisted into a scowl. 

A yawn erupted from Sai. Gaara realized he must have been exhausted too. 

This simple reflection shifted things in Gaara’s brain. He could be observant. He _was_ observant. Sai was right. He could fix things. He had to. No more brain fog. No more living a half-life. He was going to find a way to work past this with his siblings, reconnect to Baki and… fix things with Lee. It was a big list, and there was so much damage, but they could try.

He was going to need help. 

But first.

“Do you need a nap?” Gaara asked, watching his friend rub at his eyes. 

“I’m fine. You’re the one who looks on the verge of passing out.” 

Sleep… it always would come back to this. His body craved it, but his mind was fearful. Hesitant. 

Sai rubbed his chin. “How about this? We’ll take shifts. Every two hours before REM sleep kicks in, I’ll wake you before the dreams start.” 

“Will that really work?” 

“There’s only one way to find out.” 

A cold sweat broke out over Gaara. Without Lee’s presence to keep the nightmares and danger at bay, he would have to trust Sai. He knew that Sai would be able to wake him where an alarm would fail. Gaara needed a clear mind if things were to get better. He could work out his sleeping issues with a therapist; there wasn’t much of a choice in that regard. But everything else could only be solved if he had a clear mind. 

“Okay,” Gaara said. 

“Shall I sing you a lullaby?” 

“Just keep an eye on the clock, please.” Gaara turned, putting his face into the crook of his elbow. 

Exhaustion finally consumed him. The days of staying awake for weeks were over. He would have to find a compromise at some point. But until then he had to trust that Sai would wake him. 

Time had slipped by when Sai woke him. Nothing bad had happened. He wasn’t fully rested, but the edge was taken off. A perfect solution? Far from it. But it would have to do. 

Sai was content to show him pages upon pages of Gaara’s sleeping face he had drawn. _Well, at least he wasn’t bored._

Gaara’s appetite had returned as well, although it was light. He and Sai went downstairs to see Kankuro rummaging through the cabinet for food. His head turned when he heard their footsteps. 

“Gaara, you’re alive!” Kankuro said joyously, eliminating any awkwardness with his happy grin. 

Gaara was relieved to see that Kankuro was acting like Kankuro. There was still much to work through, but he was appreciative of the lighter mood. _One problem at a time._

“This is Sai. Sai, this is Kankuro,” Gaara said.

Kankuro looked behind Gaara, seeing the other man. 

“Oh hey! Nice to finally meet you,” Kankuro said.

“A pleasure,” Sai said, looking Kankuro up and down. 

Gaara elbowed Sai in the ribs. He was shocked, however, to see a small blush on his brother's face. Kankuro quickly shook it off and replaced it with a smirk. 

“Uh-huh. Anyway, good to see you’re up.” He messed up Gaara’s hair as he left the two. Yes. Sai was right. Things could be fixed—no—things would be better. 

That evening Gaara spoke in-depth with Sai in regards to what exactly had gone down with Lee. It hurt to talk about. Even looking back, there was something missing from his knowledge of Lee. He could see it more clearly now, that Lee definitely had a secret, but clues as to what it was were sparse. 

It didn’t help that every time Sai said Lee’s name Gaara cringed a little. Although he had to give it to Sai, he took in everything like a champion. 

“I want to figure this out. There has to be something,” Gaara said, trying to recall the specifics Lee had told him. There wasn’t much to work with. 

Sai was doodling in Gaara’s desk chair. 

“You said you never listened to his whole podcast, you fell asleep before you could finish. I could transcribe them.” 

“Yeah… That’s a great idea. I could help if you show me how.” 

Sai looked up from his sketchbook. He was wearing a smile. 

“You're in love with him,” Sai said. 

“I am?”

Gaara pondered this. He had nothing he could really compare it to. He had only known Lee for a couple of months. But he cared for Lee. _Deeply_. He looked at Sai, skeptical.

“Yes. I have to say, I’m kinda jealous,” Sai continued.

“Because you’re in love with me?” 

“No, because you’re mine. But I guess I can share.” Sai shrugged, and Gaara rolled his eyes. 

It was as close to an approval as he would get from his best friend. 

That evening, they took shifts. Gaara slept for two hours in the evening, and then Sai slept his usual schedule three hours later, and then Gaara for another two in the morning. It was functional. Gaara wasn’t anywhere as rested as he had been before, but he was not nearly as deprived as he had once been. 

Reading the transcripts was difficult. Lee spoke in such a distinct voice that it was almost as bad as listening to him. It took Gaara a couple of attempts to work past it, his heart heavy with sorrow. It struck Gaara that he only ever listened to a portion of Lee, but there was so much more. He worked past the pain, repeating to himself that this was part of trying to understand Lee. He had to put in the work even if it hurt. 

What he learned was that whatever Lee was going through, it was hurting him. There was a lot of talk about mediation and his training, but every so often there were lines about staying strong. That bad times would pass. It almost seemed like he was speaking more to himself than to the audience.

Overall, Sai’s presence was a blessing. It was good to physically be in the same room as him. The painting he had brought with him was a huge inspiration. Every time Gaara glanced at where it was currently leaning on the wall, it filled him with energy. Perhaps that was just an extension of Sai, whose casual and calm attitude was beyond helpful. Everything he spoke was so matter-of-fact and simple. Gaara wasn’t sure what he’d do without him. 

Although, Gaara had helped Sai quite a bit back in the day.

Gaara set Sai up in a spare office as a temporary studio, although Sai insisted he continue to sleep in Gaara’s room. 

A few days later, Gaara approached Baki and asked if he wanted to go for a walk. Baki agreed. 

It was there in the car that it really hit Gaara that Baki was more than just a caretaker. Baki was his guardian. Gaara had taken this walk with Baki through the desert many times, carried him through blue skies and starry nights. The perspective might have changed, but it felt the same. 

“Hey, Baki...” Gaara said when they had exited the car. 

“Gaara, if you are going to apologize, know that it is useless. There is nothing to forgive.” 

“But… how could that be okay with you?” Gaara closed the car door louder than intended. 

They set out on the trail path, and Gaara had to walk faster to keep up with Baki’s long legs. 

“Because that was the way things were. But it seems you have some memories, right?” 

“I’m getting flashes, but what if I can’t remember everything?” 

“Gaara, I need you to understand something. You are not to blame for how your brain reacted. You shouldn’t worry about my forgiveness, but rather your own.”

“I feel like all I’ve done is focus on myself,” Gaara said. Hiis voice was tight. 

“And look where that’s gotten you, much further ahead than you were before.” 

“I guess so…”

“It doesn’t matter about the memories you can’t recall. What’s important now is the memories you choose to make.” Baki shrugged casually. 

Gaara stopped walking. The truth of Baki’s words had stripped him; there was nothing left but the rawest of emotion. He had cried plenty in the past few days, but they were silent, rebellious tears that had escaped from his eyes. Gaara was helpless to stop the sobs that racked through him now. Grief spilled from him in shuddering breaths and loud noises. 

It wasn’t until Baki passed him a handkerchief that he realized they were crouching. A large, gentle hand was on Gaara’s back, holding him steady. 

Gaara blew his nose into the fabric, and Baki helped him up. 

It took a few minutes until he regained control and his breathing returned to normal. 

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you cry,” Baki said. 

“I bet you were there for me then, too.” 

Baki smiled softly. 

_I’m going to make it up to him. I’m going to make up the years._

They continued on the trail until they reached a path of brightly coloured purple flowers. 

Gaara was reminded of when Baki had told him they were like his mother. He’d never knew her, but he stopped for a moment to let his mind wonder. Baki joined him. Gaara asked as they continued forward.

“So you were our caretaker, but what else were you doing?” Gaara asked, and they continued forward.

“I worked for your father and a few other clients. I gathered information.” 

“Like a spy? You said you were a bodyguard.” 

“... Sort of…” 

“Like a private investigator?”

“I guess that’s closer.” Baki said thoughtly, scratching at his beard. “Informant would probably be close, but sometimes the tasks were dangerous.” 

Gaara was surprised. It wasn't what he had expected from the gentle-mannered man. 

“Do you think… you could still get information?” Gaara asked. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“Well… there’s a person I know, and I think he’s in trouble.” 

Baki nodded, his eyes focused on the orange mountains in the distance. 

Gaara told him about Lee. He told him about Gai. About UFC. And Baki listened while Gaara spoke through the pain in his chest that gripped him whenever Lee entered his mind. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Baki said, and Gaara felt a weight lift. 

“Thank you.” _For everything._

Baki clasped an arm around his shoulders as they walked through the clear, bright desert. 

________

A few days later, Gaara was woken up by Sai—rather roughly for that matter. Gaara and Sai had a working sleep schedule between the two of them, but generally Sai was very gentle in waking up his friend. 

“What is it, Sai?” Gaara asked, grumpiness leaking out. The sleep he got barely covered his body’s basic needs, and every minute counted.

Sai flashed a bright screen in his face that made Gaara wince. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. 

Soon the words started to form on the phone in front of him, and Gaara’s stomach dropped: _Rock Lee to replace dropped fighter in the title match. Watch LEE vs NEJI, May 30th! Click_ here _for tickets._

_So soon._

There was no way Lee would be recovered for this fight. It was almost suicidal. 

“Sai…” Gaara’s voice came out as a rasp. “How long are you planning to stay?”

“I have no return flight.” 

Gaara bought three tickets. As long as Lee was going to fight, Gaara would have to watch. 

_Neji…_ the name was familiar. Gaara closed his eyes. 

_“Tenten and Neji. I don’t think a day goes by where they don’t cross my mind.”_

His eyes snapped open. 

“What is it?” Sai asked. 

_Lee…_

Gaara put his hand on his heart. It ached. Love, loneliness and Lee circled around in his head. 

“I’m not… entirely sure. But I know we have to help him.” 

“We will. We’re going to figure it out.” 

Gaara flopped his hand out and Sai placed his hand in with zero hesitation. 

Later that morning, he had his first therapy session. Baki had driven him in as Temari was steering clear of Gaara. 

Gaara couldn’t say if it was going to be helpful just yet. But he was willing to try. Only time would be able to tell. 

As for Temari, he planned to confront her as soon as he got home. He pulled her car keys off the wall. He’d had enough of her avoiding him. 

While in the kitchen with Sai—who was having breakfast for lunch—Gaara heard a rustling from the front entrance. He nodded to Sai, who saluted him back.

“Looking for these?” Gaara asked to Temari’s back, jingling the keys. 

She turned around, avoiding his eyes.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Gaara said, tossing her the keys. 

It wasn’t long before they were out on the road with Gaara sitting silently in the passenger se at. 

“I’m sorry,” Temari said. It was stiff as the rest of her. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting you.” 

“It’s okay.” 

Temari’s face was drawn and tired. 

“I don’t think I’d know what to do if I was in your place,” Gaara said. 

Gaara wasn’t sure if he totally forgave her yet, but he also didn’t know if he blamed her either. What he did know is that he didn’t want a strained relationship.

“So, will you stop avoiding me now?” Gaara asked. 

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you.” 

“Yes, you were.” 

Temari kept her eyes on the road. 

“You know, you’re allowed to make mistakes,” Gaara told her. Her vice grip on the wheel slackened. 

“Just because Kankuro fucks up a lot, doesn’t mean we have to pick up his slack.” 

This got a small chuckle from Temari. 

“You’re a good brother.” 

“Better than Kankuro?”

“Shut up,” Temari told him, and then after a beat, “...Actually yes.” 

This had both of them laughing. They made fun of their middlest brother until they got back home. Temari still looked fatigued, but better, brighter. It was a start.

Baki was waiting for him when he got back. They walked into the small study where a manilla envelope sat on the table. 

Gaara’s pulse quickened. His eyes met Baki’s.

“That was fast,” Gaara said. 

“It’s been some time, but finding information now is easier than it’s ever been.” 

Gaara took a seat across from Baki, who was pulling out a thin stack of paper. 

“Well, you were right. Your friend is in danger,” Baki said factually, laying the papers in front of Gaara. 

“Is it Gai?” Gaara whispered, looking at Lee’s file. It felt invasive, but at the same time… if he was going to help Lee, he needed to get to the bottom of this. 

“Maito Gai? No. If it weren’t for Gai, I think Lee’s situation would be completely hopeless.” 

Baki circled one part in blue ink. “Rock Lee is involved in a large crime syndicate. One that I am too familiar with…”

Gaara inhaled quickly. The thugs at the hospital… Lee’s isolation… the ruthless determination to fight… 

“It seems Lee is working to pay off his parent’s debt, a total of three million dollars. They passed away, leaving Lee responsible. Soon after, Gai took sympathy for him and offered to train him. If Lee can become and stay the belt holder, he may be able to make enough.” 

_All this for a belt…_ he had thought foolishly before. Lee fought like his life was on the line—because it was. 

Gaara thought he might throw up. 

_I can’t… I… it’s… I’ve been selfish…_ Lee had told him.

Gaara couldn’t believe how wrong he had been. He really had been sleep-walking with open eyes. He was mad at Lee for shutting him out, but he knew that he was really just mad at himself. 

“Furthermore, it seems the current belt holder is in a similar situation. From what I can tell, Lee and Neji were friends. They are fighting against each other in the next fight, which is unfortunate.” 

It took Gaara a long time to reply. 

“Baki… I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“It was a pleasure to help.” 

Gaara looked at the well-organized document and thought about the journal he had thrown across the room—where it remained, with its scattered, unorganized thoughts. 

“Do you think… you could show me how to do something like this one day?” 

Baki looked at him. 

“I think so,” Baki said finally. 

Gaara nodded, excusing himself. 

Once he exited the study, he saw Sai was there, leaning casually against the wall. 

“I hate when you do that,” Gaara told him. 

Sai shrugged. “You were going to tell me anyway. So… Lee sounds pretty fucked.” 

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” 

Sai smiled. 

“Crime lords, eh? Sounds like we’ve got a lot of work to do.” Sai stretched, his hands reaching for the sky. 

For the next week, Sai and Gaara devoted their time to planning. The upcoming fight was considered career suicide for Lee by anybody who had an opinion. Despite the doctors clearing him to participate in the next fight, not many people were convinced of his health. Gaara knew for certain that Lee would fight, and Gaara knew he would make Lee win. He was going to turn the table on the literal odds that were against Lee. 

Baki told him he had an additional fifty thousand dollars sitting there in a savings account. He had learned that his siblings had spent theirs on cars, drugs and body modifications. Gaara was about to spend his on Lee.

While neither Sai nor Gaara were fighting experts, Baki had knowledge in spades. He told them where to look and how to spot weaknesses. So they looked. They spent all their time watching and re-watching Neji’s fights. Aometimes Kankuro would join. 

While Neji was nowhere near as violent as Sasuke, he held the belt for a reason. He was graceful as water in the ring. Unbelievably smooth and deadly at the same time. His gentle and calm appearance was off-putting, often luring his opponent into a false sense of security. Every hit he would land could be a limb out of commission. He knew exactly where to hit to make it hurt, knowing his opponents' moves before they had even decided to strike.

It was beginning to feel hopeless. They had watched the same hours of fighting over and over to no avail. This man had no weakness.

Halfway through the week, Gaara saw he had a missed call from Lee. The notification alone was agony. He tried calling back to only receive a dial tone. Was it a mistake? Did Lee want to talk to him? Gaara missed him. A lot. He missed their phone calls. He missed Lee’s kind but serious attitude. He missed what was happening between them. 

He did try once to listen to Lee’s podcast. It hurt, but more than that, the magic sleep and comfort that was brought on by Lee’s voice was... gone. The blind trust was shattered. It was just Lee talking, which hurt… but he was actually able to listen to him. More than just reading transcripts or hearing him for just a few minutes, Gaara could finally start to understand Lee. Although, his heart hurt too much to listen to anything past the first episode. It didn’t matter that the power of Lee’s voice was gone… in a way, Gaara was relieved. His issue with sleep should not have been Lee’s burden to bear.

Lee had enough on his plate. 

Gaara wanted so badly to text him. 

Sai eventually forced their attention back to their work by threatening to ask Kankuro to pose for him—nude—if they weren’t going to study the videos. Gaara quickly refocused. 

It wasn't until it was an early morning, with less than a week to the match, that Gaara saw something. 

Neji had eyes everywhere… Gaara was watching an older fight between Naruto and Neji, one of the few losses Neji had taken. Naruto was relentless, and there was a moment where he stepped around Neji, nailing him in the temple. Gaara hit rewind, zooming in on the footage. 

It was hard to tell from the angle but the trajectory of the punch... it had to hit the back of his head first. They had called it his temple, but Gaara could see the punch had started behind Neji’s head.

Going frame-by-frame he was able to observe the true destination of the hit. 

Neji had eyes everywhere… but the back of his head… 

Gaara Sai woke up.

Once Sai’s eyes were open he flipped through the frames, his hair a mess.

“That’s it,” he told Gaara, scratching at the five o’clock shadow that grew around his jaw.

“Do you think Lee can make this hit?”

“He only has to make it once.” 

The next day Gaara brought his research to Baki, who looked it over with a keen eye. 

“I’m impressed. Your deduction is spot on. This is not a strike to the temple as claimed. There’s only one thing left to do then, really.” 

_Only two things left to do,_ Gaara corrected in his mind.

The first was to tell Lee the news of Neji’s weakness. It occurred to Gaara that Lee might know this already, but he couldn’t risk that assumption. The second was to bet his mother’s money on him. One of which was going to be infinitely easier than the other. 

And it wasn’t betting away his savings. 

Temari was only able to drive them all down that Saturday—the day of the fight. Kankuro had called dibs on the extra ticket which Temari was more than fine with. The only way Gaara was sure he would be able to speak to Lee would be at the fight. 

They had gone over the plan multiple times. Kankuro would make the bet with the bookmaker in Gaara’s name. This bookmaker in particular was known for its ties to the crime organization. The odds had never been more stacked against Lee; it would be a true gamble. 

Lee had just barely made weight the previous evening, skewing the odds even more in Neji’s favour (or as Sai said, in Gaara’s favour). Kankuro had also picked out discreet clothing for Gaara along with an extension cable as an accessory as part of their plan. 

“Trust me, no one will question you if you carry this around.”

This choice did not go unjudged by Gaara, but he had packed it regardless. 

Sai had researched security passes and had forged one for Gaara. It was nearly indistinguishable—he hoped. 

As for Temari, she had somehow managed to get an itinerary of the fight and Gaara’s name on the list of an event company. Gaara didn’t ask how, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Temari was key as there was no one else who could drive them down. Kankuro had an expired license, Baki would be out of town and Gaara couldn’t drive.

When Gaara had asked Sai if he knew how to drive, he'd said: “Are you kidding? I’m gay.” 

So Temari it was, even though it left them with a tighter-than-comfortable schedule. 

Gaara was exhausted, not only from the insubstantial amount of sleep he now got and from the amount of work he and Sai had put in, but from the sheer nerves that ate away at his energy. 

It may not have helped that Gaara had taken the Xanax Kankuro had offered him.

In the morning, he donned the outfit Kankuro told him to wear—all black, with a cap that hid his red hair. He also put a wrench with a cord attached to his belt loops. 

Gaara was expected to arrive earlier than anyone else. He was to blend into the incoming set up crew. 

Kankuro’s words ran through his mind as he walked to the back entrance of the venue: “Stride in like you belong. They’ll only hesitate if you do.” 

So that’s what Gaara did, he walked right in with his extension cable and nobody took a second look at him. 

Thankfully he was wearing all black because he was _sweating_. He couldn’t believe it had worked. 

The venue was almost unrecognizable, empty of thousands of people and with all the overhead lights on.

“Hey, you! You’re with lighting right?” A man yelled at him. He seemed to be directing the event.

Gaara’s eyes flitted down to the wire and back up. 

“Uhh… Yeah…” Gaara said. 

“Kids…” The man muttered, and then yelled, “Genma!”

A man with a toothpick and a lazy look picked him up. While they were walking, Gaara confessed it was his first day. 

“That’s no problem, just stand here,” Genma said, plunking a hard hat on top of Gaara’s cap. 

They were in front of a blue hydraulic-looking thing. 

“I don’t have to do anything?” Gaara asked. 

“Do you want to?” 

Gaara shut up and stood next to the machine, trying to look important.

Genma told him they were only focusing lights… whatever that meant. 

_I don’t know what Kankuro complains about. This is easy._

Before he knew it the day had passed by and no one had questioned his presence. He only had to wait for an opening to slip into Lee’s dressing room while Gai wasn’t there. This was the unpredictable part, but during lunch he had been able to scope out everywhere he would have to go. 

Eventually, somebody dressed in black told him to stand where the audience met the VIP section. It wasn’t the best spot to be in because he could only see the tops of people’s heads as they left the dressing room. But it would have to do. Gaara’s heart would drum at random, and then cool off at other times as the stands slowly filled with people. He kept one eye on where his seat would be, and while he couldn’t quite make out if Sai and Kankuro showed up, he was sure they would be there soon. 

This was by far the biggest risk he had ever actively put himself in. It was dangerous, unlawful and could potentially backfire. But for Lee? It was worth it.

It was worth the risk. 

And… there _was_ a tiny bit of thrill that went along with this strung-together plan, but he made sure it didn’t bleed through his otherwise professional comportment. 

It wasn’t Gai’s head that he recognized first, it was his walk. His walk was bold in stride, not unlike Lee’s. 

Gaara quickly slipped through the bars, hopping down a level of the stands. He grabbed his cable that was tucked in a corner and walked—with confidence—backstage where the dressing rooms were. 

Finally, it hit him that he was finally going to see Lee, even if it was brief. 

That was when a security guard asked to see his pass. 

_This is it. It’s over. I’m fucked._

Gaara’s heart hammered and he started to sweat as the guard looked over his pass. 

The guard waved him though, and Gaara left as quickly as he came. 

_Thank you, Sai…_

Inhaling, Gaara went into Lee’s dressing room. There Lee was, warming up… without a shirt on. Gaara only needed a quick glance to see his rib cage was still green and yellow with healing. His movements were stiff. He looked tired too, sporting purple bags under his eyes. His face was a mask that revealed nothing. It hurt to see him like this.  
Made worse by the knowledge of his past. Gaara had been so ignorant of Lee’s pain. 

It occurred to him that perhaps Lee had rejected him for other reasons. Gaara would have to be okay with that. He had to be. 

It didn’t change the reason why he was here, and that was to help Lee. Romance took a back seat. 

His thoughts stopped him from speaking. He waited too long to say anything, and Lee noticed him. 

“Is everything okay? It’s a little early for interviews,” Lee laughed. It wasn’t real. 

Gaara took a few steps closer, taking off his hat to let his hair tumble out. 

“Lee, I have something important to tell you.” 

Lee’s eyes were saucers. 

“Gaara?! How did you get here?” Lee’s voice then changed to whisper. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He was concerned, and Gaara finally knew why. 

There was emotion twisting behind Lee’s eyes, not settling on any particular one. 

“I’m sorry if you don’t want to see me. It’s about Neji, I know where his weakness is.” 

“Neji?” Lee’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he shook his head. “It’s on his temple.” 

“No!” Gaara then lowered his voice. “It’s not. It’s on the back of his head.”

“But I… on the video…” Lee’s eyes darted around. 

“Take another look. I should go now.” Gaara put on his cap. He was here to help Lee. He had to stick to that. The last thing Gaara wanted to do was distract Lee. 

“Yeah… you should go…” Lee’s lips said. 

Gaara wanted to kiss those lips. He squeezed the cord he held. 

“Good luck Lee. I believe in you.” 

Gaara left before he could reply. Before Gai returned. Before the guards caught him. Before he could spill his heart in the same way Lee had spilled his blood.

On the way out he passed Gai, who took no notice of him. Gaara ditched the wire and started to shed his disguise. He began to find his way to where his best friend and brother held a seat for him. Each step lighter than the last as he climbed up the massive stadium.

Gaara was grateful that his seats were far away from the action. He knew they would eventually notice a missing security guard. 

_Not my problem._

Once he reached Sai and Kankuro, he plopped down heavily in his seat between them. He was exhausted. Adrenaline was starting to fade and his actions were catching up to him. Gaara had done everything he possibly could, and the rest was in Lee’s capable hands. 

“Did you do it?” Sai asked. 

Gaara nodded, and Kankuro ruffled his hat hair. 

“I knew you could!” said Kankuro with all his teeth showing. 

Despite feeling like the battle was only just getting started, he allowed himself this small victory. 

Kankuro handed him his IDs and betting documents, and Gaara told them of his adventures. 

“Hey, I think I know that dude,” Kankuro said after Gaara told them about Genma.

“You know everyone.” Gaara rolled his eyes. 

Sai was also pleased to know his forging skills were second to none. Gaara would have to keep that in mind.

Soon the lights dimmed and the prelim fights started. Gaara used the first fight to zone out as his mind tried to process everything that had happened and everything that was about to. 

It wasn’t until he saw Kankuro sit up attentively that Gaara came back into the real world. 

_What’s got him so excited?_

Kankuro was leaning forward in his seat, almost _giddy_. 

The walkout music started (something about how the years start coming and they don’t stop coming), and they announced the fighter: Kiba Inuzuka. 

“I think that man down there is why your brother didn’t want to sleep with me,” Sai whispered in Gaara’s ear. 

Gaara sighed. “I’m gonna end you one of these days.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Sai said, reaching over to pat him on the hand. 

The fight unfolded before them. Kiba was actually quite good. His style was rough but effective. It seemed that his opponent didn’t know how to predict him. 

Kiba won, and he climbed the ring to straddle it as he celebrated. He called out another fighter named “Shino”. Kankuro was over the moon, praising Kiba almost as much as Naruto had ripped on him.

“Maybe this Shino guy is his boyfriend,” Gaara suggested loudly to Sai. 

“Shut up,” Kankuro replied, flicking Gaara on his temple. 

The rest of the fights passed by slowly. Time ticked by… 

Sai and Kankuro tried to keep him distracted by making asinine comments about the fighters.

It half-worked. 

But the trauma of watching Lee’s last fight was still fresh along with the memory of his childhood. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, in through his nose and out of his mouth. Again and again until his jaw finally loosened and shoulders dropped.

He had to believe in Lee. He did believe in Lee. 

This was why he was here. 

It didn’t matter whether he was ready or not. Lee and Neji’s fight was up next. 

The amount of hype was unreal as they played videos of the fighters to generate excitement. Lights punctuated the sound cues, and the crowd went wild.

“Are you going to puke?” Sai asked Gaara. “You legally have to tell me if you’re going to hurl.”

“No.” 

Sai crossed his legs the other way, not convinced. 

Lee had walked out, and Gaara could barely hear the commentators over the roar of the crowd. People loved an underdog… Or maybe they just loved Lee. 

But something was different. Gaara was far enough away that he needed to watch the screen to really see the fighter. 

Lee’s bruises were missing… 

The violent wash of colour had been covered up, and, with the way Lee walked out, no one could imagine he was still injured. But Gaara knew of the bruises that bloomed on his chest. 

There wasn’t much surprise when he saw Neji’s walkout. Gaara and Sai had watched hours of it. They knew of the man’s no-nonsense approach, but still, he walked out like a king with the ring as his castle. 

Lee’s face was steel, but his eyes were not. There was a tension between the two that made the hair on Gaara’s arm stand. 

There was an air of finality on Neji’s side. As if it would be over before it even started. 

Neji whispered something into Lee’s ear that made Lee take a step back unsteadily.

Gaara couldn’t even imagine what must be going through Lee’s mind. He had spoken with so much sorrow of his friends, and now, he had to beat one of them senseless in front of millions of people. 

The thought was quickly banished from Gaara’s head once the fight started. In a way, he was seeing the fight with fresh eyes. His knowledge of UFC had expanded considerably in the past few weeks. He was able to follow the action closer than ever before. He knew what every swing, counter and kick meant. 

He could see what an expert Lee really was. He could also see how much of a disadvantage he was at to Neji’s maneuvers. Never before had a fight looked so much like a dance. 

Neji was fluid and grace to Lee’s explosive power. It was mesmerizing. 

It was terrifying. 

Hope started to grow in Gaara as they exchanged blows. It wasn’t as one-sided as people had predicted.

Lee managed to land a hook, successfully dodging the counter that came his way after. As long as he could stay on his feet, Lee might stand a chance. 

“I wouldn’t count Lee out just yet,” Sakura commented. 

_That would be Neji’s first mistake._

He should have taken Sai’s offer to watch over him for longer last night; four hours was not enough for a day like today. 

The bell of round two brought Gaara at the edge of his seat. The distance helped separate his emotions from Lee. Only just. 

Most of the round played out similarly, but it seemed that Neji was frustrated with Lee’s quick-footed movements. He was going to put an end to that—swiftly.

Neji pushed Lee up against the cage with a clatter that was loud enough to reach Gaara. In a second Neji had Lee in a hold. 

Lee screamed. 

Gaara stood up, almost falling into the seats in front of him. His eyes flitted to the screen to see what had happened. The replay showed Lee’s arm popping from its socket. An unnatural and grotesque motion. 

Gaara shuddered, horror sat in stomach like lead. Sai grabbed his hand. 

Lee managed to shake Neji off. His arm dangled uselessly at his side.

The medic quickly popped Lee’s shoulder back in between rounds. It was painful. 

This was a classic Neji tactic: making it so his opponent couldn't fight back, and it was working.

Neji would break Lee one limb at a time. 

_Come on, Lee, you can do this… Please._

Neji shin hit Lee’s oblique hard enough that Lee’s knee bent backwards. 

Lee was limping after the hit, trying his hardest to stand tall, but it was obvious he couldn’t put any pressure on it. It started swelling fast.

Lee broke his distance. He managed to land a punch on Neji’s chin that made him spit blood. There was still some hope for Lee that was, until Neji used Lee’s wobbly stance to land a kick at him. Lee fell on the ground with a painful thump and Neji pinned him to the mat. 

Kankuro dropped his head into his hands and Sai looked away. 

_No…_

Gaara's heart fell through his stomach. 

Neji twisted Lee's other arm, the angle was sharp. Lee winced, his teeth were clenched.

Neji was hurting Lee from the inside out. 

With a few adjustments, Neji had Lee in a chokehold. 

Gaara couldn’t breathe. 

Lee’s face began to turn red and then purple. The veins stood out on his neck, straining. He wasn’t tapping out. 

This was it… this was the end. 

The stadium was silent. 

_Lee… hold on._

As if Lee had heard Gaara’s thoughts, he flailed, kicking out his one good leg under him. He twisted, rolling himself and Neji so Lee ended up on top. 

Gaara stood up for an entirely different reason this time, hands clutched to his chest. 

Lee wrapped his arms around Neji, pinning his arms. He seemed to whisper something into Neji’s ear before slamming him down with all his might.

Neji’s head bounced off the ground. Unconscious. 

A knockout. 

Kankuro and Sai shot out of their chairs and they shook Gaara with glee. 

The crowd went wild. 

The medics tended to the fighters and Lee raised his chin in the air. 

Lee did it. 

They did it. 

The referee announced: “The winner by way of knockout, ROCK LEE.” The ref gestured to Lee and the crowd roared.

Gai had moved to support Lee after the medics cleared him for the moment. Gai held the belt up in front of him as Lee was in no condition to hold anything. 

Lee's face was serious and solemn. In some ways, peaceful. 

He let Gai handle the post-interview as the medics helped him off the stage. 

“I can’t believe that worked,” Kankuro told Gaara. 

Gaara nodded. 

It was time to pay dividends on a debt that was long overdue. 

They made no hesitation to leave before the masses started getting up. They hustled to the bookie, who didn’t look pleased to see Gaara. 

“Ah, yes. You must be Gaara. Follow me,” the bookmaker said. 

Gaara’s eyes met Kankuro’s. He didn’t look happy, but he nodded Gaara on. 

Gaara followed the man. 

Kankuro had told him how much he was supposed to make from his hefty fifty thousand bet on 1000/1 odds. It was almost unimaginable. 

The bookie led him up a few marble staircases into an expensive-looking office. The same kind of guards that had been stationed outside the hospital were here too. A badge was pinned on their coat pocket… _what was on it?_

But he never got a chance to see as he was led into the office, the door closing with a click—locked. There, in an extravagant chair, was a man with white hair and a crooked smile. His attire looked expensive but sloppy, like he couldn’t be assed to do his buttons up correctly. 

It was like Gaara had just entered a lion’s den. Everything about the man before him was sharp, pointed and dangerous. 

“Take a seat,” the man said. 

Gaara did, his eyes not leaving the other man’s for a second. 

“You must be Gaara.”

The man fanned out some papers in front of him. 

“My name is Suigetsu Hozuki. I’m sure you understand why you’re here.” 

Gaara just stared at him. 

The other man sighed. “Not much of a talker, eh? I can work with that. I work with lots of types.” 

Gaara resisted rolling his eyes. _I could have guessed that._

Suigetsu leaned forward. “Listen, I’ll put it simply. You won more than what we currently can afford to pay out, and I want to know if there’s something _else_ we can do for you instead. Let your imagination run wild.” 

Gaara pretended to think about this, his index knuckle coming up to his lips. He already knew what to ask for. But it was a gamble.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Gaara leaned forward, almost mocking Suigetsu. “I’m sure you are aware of the contract for a debt that Rock Lee must pay. I want it nulled.” 

Suigetsu pulled back, his eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?” Suigetsu finally said, and after a moment he laughed at Gaara. Three pointed laughs: Ha ha ha.

Gaara nodded _._

The other man's eyes scanned Gaara’s. His smile dropped. 

“He’s not going to like that.” Suigetsu told him. 

“Who?”

“The big boss.” 

“He’ll like this even less then. I want Neji’s contract, too.” 

Yes. As long he knew that Neji bore a weight as well, he wanted to help. 

Suigetsu slammed his fist on the table. “You’re out of your mind! No way! Ask for something else. Anything, have any enemies? Want some new friends? A body guard?” 

Gaara’s will held on strong. This was his battle. He closed his eyes for a second, putting together the pieces. Gone was the sleepwalking Gaara. He was awake now, and he was watching. He thought about Suigetsu and the desperation that he seemed to be swimming in. 

“It seems like you’re in no position to refuse my offer. After all, you couldn’t afford it,” Gaara said, boring his eyes into Suigetsu’s. “You got greedy with my bet, didn’t you? Accepting something you knew you couldn’t afford. Now you have to pay the price.” 

The man across from him clenched his teeth. He seemed to reach for something under the table. Gaara could only assume it was a weapon. 

“These are my demands.” Gaara crossed his arms, not backing down. “My brother has a copy of the bet.” 

“Damn, you creepy bastard,” Suigetsu whispered under his breath, bringing his hand back on top of the table. “Fine. Fine! I’ll ask… the boss is not going to be happy,” he said. 

The man pulled out a sleek-looking phone. He rubbed the bridge of his nose until someone picked up. 

“Heeeeeey Boss! How’s it going? I’ve run into a slight problem...” Suigetsu asked cheerily. 

_And here I thought I was unstable._

There was screaming on the other side of the call and Suigetsu put his phone at arm’s length, cringing. 

“I know, I know. I won’t do it again... Listen here...” Suigetsu explained while Gaara waited. 

And waited. 

Suigetsu listened as his face was pinched, it seemed like anything he’d say would get a loud voice blaring over the speaker. It didn’t sound like good news. Gaara’s hands grew sweaty.

Gaara did his best to look casual, this was the moment. Everything else depended on the success of this transaction. No one could help him here. 

Finally, Suigetsu hung up, looking pale.

“You got your contracts,” Suigetsu said bitterly after tossing his phone on the table. It spun around and around until it stopped. 

Gaara’s heart thumped. 

It was a knockout and Gaara had _won_.

“You have no idea how much trouble this causes me,” Suigetsu said.

It took too long to get the contracts signed off. Witnesses and all. He wished Baki were here, but Gaara read carefully, ensuring everything was in order. He even managed to get a small return on his investment.

The papers were still warm from the printer. Their debts were resolved. Lee and Neji could walk away free. 

The phone from in his pocket kept buzzing. Gaara knew that Sai and Kankuro were concerned. 

Heck, even Suigetsu looked fatigued. 

“I don’t know what’s worse, the boss losing two of his prize fighters or the amount of your payout.” Suigetsu rested his chin on his fist, looking forlorn. “I guess the former is better,” he sighed, leaning far back in his chair. His eyes were closed.

Gaara started to gather the papers and saw that Suigetsu had slipped in his business card. Exhaustion prevented him from considering what this meant. 

Maybe he didn’t _want_ to know. 

The grimace finally fell from Gaara’s face as he left the stuffy office. After all, he had gotten what he wanted, and his life was intact. He tried not to think about what Suigetsu had under his desk and instead thought about the documents that he held with the utmost care. 

He texted Kankuro. They were parked out front with Temari. 

Somehow Gaara’s tired feet found their way to the car. 

“Gaara, you could have texted earlier!” his brother exclaimed when Gaara closed the car door. 

“I think I’m lucky to be in one piece,” Gaara confessed. 

“Are those what I think they are?” Sai asked, pointing to his lap. 

“Yes. Yes, they are.” 

Gaara leaned back. Somehow they’d did it. They’d _all_ did it. He watched the streetlights’ beams as they passed through the car. 

For once. He had accomplished something great.

____________

Gaara crashed on the couch and Sai kept watch, ready to wake Gaara in two hours. This sleep was only a drop of water in the desert, but it was a drop he appreciated. 

The world was still shaken at Lee’s victory. Gaara found news sources of Lee’s status. They said his kneecap was fractured and that it might never heal to fighting condition. 

Gaara took his morning nap when the sun finally rose, and then accepted Temari’s offer to drive him to the hospital. 

“This isn’t the same one as before,” Gaara said. 

“It’s not. I got information that they switched Lee last night. It seems like the other hospital has a couple _influential_ benefactors.” 

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

“Maybe,” his sister said with a smile. “I don’t wanna jinx anything. I’ll tell you about it soon.” 

Gaara would have to be content with this knowledge. He thanked her for the lift, trying to not hold the valuable papers in his hand too tightly. 

He walked up to reception. 

“I’m here to visit Rock Lee.” 

The receptionist looked at him skeptically and then down at her computer. 

“Name?” 

Gaara told her. 

“Huh, seems like Maito Gai cleared you. He’s in room number four. Take this.” 

Gaara received a pass. Door four was easy to find, and there were no “security guards” this time. They no longer cared if the status of Lee’s health leaked. It didn’t matter. 

The knock on the door sounded loud to Gaara. 

“Come in!” called a voice. 

It was Lee. Gaara’s heart felt tight. 

He pushed open the door. Lee’s leg was in a cast, his arm in a sling. There was bruising on his face. The blue hospital gown was ill-fitting, but Gaara's heart leapt anyway.

“Gaara?” 

"I have something for you. If you want me to leave afterwards, then I will." 

_Even if it might break me._

Lee looked like he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“Go? Gaara? No, wait I—” 

Gaara interrupted by walking up and dropping the contract gently into his lap. 

“What? What are these? Are these…? These are... “ Lee's voice changed from loud to soft. 

“You don’t owe anybody anything.” _Myself included._

“But… how... “ Lee was at a loss. 

“I made a calculated bet.” 

Lee whipped his head in Gaara’s direction. His wide eyes filled with tears that quickly spilled over his cheeks. 

He made a choking sound that concerned Gaara. But Lee’s hitched sob turned into a laugh. The lightest of laughs. 

And then, the brightest thing Gaara had ever seen happened. Brighter and more vibrant than the sun. Lee smiled, and it lit up the room. His whole face transformed. It was more beautiful than any dawn that Gaara had witnessed. A true smile, free from the years of burden and weight.

The smile that was always supposed to belong on Lee’s face. It made a mockery of everything that had come before it. 

Gaara was entranced. No, Gaara was in love. 

“I should, uhm, go now then,” Gaara mumbled awkwardly. 

Lee’s smile dropped. 

“No!” Lee looked surprised at his own tone. “No. Please don’t go. Please stay.” There was a rasp in his voice. 

Gaara quickly pulled a chair up next to Lee’s bed. 

Lee’s smile returned, and it stunned Gaara again. 

Gaara had to close his eyes to regather his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry. For how I acted before. I was an asshole and couldn’t see the pain you were in. If… if you…” Gaara took a breath. “I promise to be more observant in the future… if you would have me.” 

Lee laughed, throwing his head back. 

Gaara’s heart sank. 

“I don’t deserve you. Nothing was your fault. I was a coward. I was scared so I pushed you away. Gaara! You did nothing wrong. The debt I owed… it made it impossible for me to have relationships, and I was putting you in danger because I was _selfish_. Because I… I... “ Lee sighed. “I don’t know how to make this clear. But I want you by my side forever. I want you to never leave.” Lee looked down. “I’m sorry, I know you may not understand that from my actions. But I will prove it to you, if you’ll let me. If you’ll give me a second chance.”

Heart thumping, Gaara couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

Gaaara nodded awkwardly, and he relished in that sunbeam of a smile. It warmed him. 

“Can you put your hand in mine? I can’t really move too much,” Lee told him.

Gaara complied. 

“Thank you,” Lee sighed. “Thank you for everything… I know where I’d be without your help, and you’ve saved me.” 

Gaara shook his head. 

“Yes. You saw something about Neji I failed to see. You snuck past security. Which… is very impressive. You freed me from my contract… and you believed in me.” 

Lee squeezed his hand lightly. 

“About Neji… I found out about him too.” Gaara flipped one of the pages. “His debt is paid.” 

Lee pressed his lips together, trying to hold something back. But the tears fell free. Gaara grabbed a tissue to wipe them. 

“I’m so glad,” Lee sobbed, trying to get his breathing under control. “I’m sorry. It seems that I am always crying in front of you.” 

Gaara chose to ignore this. It didn’t matter how emotional Lee was, as long as Gaara wasn’t the reason for his tears. 

“In a way, I should be thanking you, Lee. A lot has happened to me since we last spoke… but I think it was all for the best.” 

The expression on Lee’s face was curious. His head tilted. 

“I’ll tell you about it soon.” 

_One trauma at a time._

There was a knock on the door. Gaara went to move his hand, but Lee held on. Gaara wasn’t going to argue. 

After Lee called, 'Come in!', the familiar form of Maito Gai appeared in the door. 

Before Lee had a chance to say ‘hello’, Gai strode up to Gaara. His hand was outstretched.

Red covered Gaara’s cheeks but he stood up, putting his hand in the other man’s much larger one. Suddenly, he was pulled into an enveloping hug. Once Gaara got over his shock, he was concerned he might be uncomfortable… but it was pleasant… even if his ribs hurt a little. 

When he was released, Gai put his hand on Gaara’s shoulders, unleashing the full force that was Gai. “I can’t thank you enough for what you have done for Lee. I am truly sorry for my past behaviour. It was uncalled-for and unacceptable.” 

Gaara disagreed. No matter what Lee said, Gaara believed it was his own behaviour that was unacceptable. 

“No. I think I needed that,” Gaara said with a small smile. 

Gai shook his head, but before he could continue, Lee called him over. 

As Gai pored over the documents he began to cry, which made Lee cry. Gaara felt a bit like an intruder until Gai threw an arm over his shoulder, including him. 

When their sniffles of happiness dried up, Lee announced to the room that he was quitting UFC. 

Gai smiled, and tears sprang back into his eyes.

Gaara sighed in relief. He never wanted to see Lee hurt ever again. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Gai said, his eyes shined. 

Lee’s lower lip started to tremble and Gaara was worried they would run out of tissues. 

“I… I have to call Neji.” Gai said. He, too, looked lighter. 

The whole world was brighter with Lee’s smile in it. 

Gaara put his hand back into Lee’s. 

“I’m not letting go this time,” Lee said, giving his hand a squeeze. 

Gaara squeezed back. 

__________________

Gaara was going to return home with Temari. Lee was not happy about it. In fact, he’d pouted quite childishly when Gaara had told him. But Gaara didn’t want to miss his appointment with his therapist. 

Lee was to be discharged from the hospital the next day, and Gai was to look after him.

“Come on, you could stay at my place!” Lee suggested. 

“Not unless you want Sai third-wheeling. For the moment, he goes where I go.” 

Lee sighed. Possibly in jealousy. 

“Sai kind of held me together after… your last fight. He’s like my alarm clock to keep me from having nightmares… and whatever it was that caused me to pass out at your voice is gone… In a way it’s a relief. I didn’t have control of when I’d fall asleep. I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Lee nodded. 

“I wouldn’t mind watching over you,” Lee said, making Gaara’s heart feel like pudding. 

“Yeah, maybe. I think Sai has, like, three sketchbooks filled with just my sleeping face, so he might be prepared to pass the baton.” 

For some reason this made Lee chuckle. 

“I promise to visit as soon as possible,” Lee said, bringing Gaara’s hand to his mouth to deliver a short but sweet kiss. 

The next day on the drive home, Gaara received a text from Lee… with a photo. 

Gaara’s eyes widened. _Lee_ had sent a photo… 

It was Lee on a crutch with that big smile that stretched from ear to ear. The picture was well-taken; it reminded him of the shots he would usually see on Lee’s Twitter. Gai must have taken it. 

_Guess who got a new phone!_ texted Lee. 

“What are you smiling about?'' asked Sai. 

Gaara showed him. 

Sai sighed with affection. “I’m really trying to hate him, but he makes it so hard.” 

Gaara took a photo of Kankuro with his head out the window like a dog. 

It turned out ‘soon’ would be a week exactly. Lee’s new phone did make the separation easier, but they were both eager to see each other again. 

Gai was willing to drive in his ancient Corolla to drop Lee off. 

Under the shade of the porch, Gaara and Sai were waiting for Lee’s arrival with a pitcher of fresh, cool lemonade they had made. The weather was warm and beautiful, a slight breeze keeping things from getting too hot. Deep blue skies met orange mountains in the distance. 

When Gai’s car finally pulled in, both Sai and Gaara went to go greet them. Exiting the car first was Gai, who went to go hug them, picking both of them up at the same time and swinging them around. After placing them down, Sai raised his eyes suggestively at Gaara. 

Gaara told him with his eyes: _The coach is off-limits._

Sai put his hand on his hips: _You never let me have any fun._

Deciding it was time to ignore Sai, Gaara turned around only to be swept up into another hug. Although this one was different. It was tender and gentle. 

It was Lee. 

Gaara wrapped his arms around him, being careful of the crutch and of his sling. But this felt nice. Gaara would have been happy to be surrounded by Lee’s embrace forever.

Too soon he was released. 

Lee beamed at him. 

“I missed you,” Lee said.

“Me too.” 

Lee then went to Sai, who, to Gaara’s surprise, initiated the hug first. Sai whispered something into Lee’s ear that made him pale and release the hug, choosing to pat his arm instead. And nod profusely

Gaara unleashed a dark look at Sai, who shrugged and smiled. 

_Bastard._

It didn’t take long until Kankuro came out as well, helping bring in the bags. By the evening, Lee had completely settled in. Temari insisted he stay longer than a week, and that they could use someone with manners around the house. Kankuro had a million questions about UFC that Lee was happy to answer. And Sai, well, he was willing to relegate Gaara-sitting duties in exchange for drawing Lee nude. 

Lee agreed before Gaara could stop him, adding in that he wanted to know how Sai and Gaara met. 

“For another day,” Gaara said, changing the subject. 

There were a few more things Lee wanted to update Gaara on. Naruto had called him and begged him not to quit, but when he realized Lee was adamant about leaving the UFC, he'd begged him to referee instead. Lee said he’d be delighted once he was fully healed. Lee also spoke about how he had reached out to Neji, and that they were planning a time to meet.

Sai said he’d be sticking around a little longer. He said: “I’d like to explore my artistic opportunities here in California. It seems there’s plenty of new material.” _Uh-huh._

Kankuro made sure they all had tickets to the opening night of his play.

The household was a strange mixture of people, but it had never felt more full, and Gaara had never been happier. 

Choosing to fall asleep next to Lee was wonderful. He knew he could trust him to wake him up when two hours had passed. Only time and professional help could heal this wound. 

There was one last thing that Gaara had been preparing since he got back from Vegas. He had dealt with nightmares and then had dealt with nothing, an absence of substance. It was time for him to learn how to dream. 

He entered the study where Baki was sitting reading a book. In a way, it looked similar to how Temari sat sometimes when she read. Sai’s desert painting hung up on the wall; Baki had also taken a liking to it. 

Gaara pulled out documents from a manilla envelope and placed them in front of Baki. They looked similar to the ones that had been laid out on this table not long ago. There was a photo of a man, a description and blocks of well laid out information. An evolution from his journals.

A hint of pride slipped through Baki’s expression. 

“There’s someone I want to help,” Gaara told him.

“And who might that be?” Baki said, listening. 

“His name is Sasuke Uchiha.”


End file.
